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Here gazed down at his handiwork in consternation — Page 128 






THE 

DREADNOUGHT BOYS 
ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


BY 

CAPTAIN WILBUR LAWTON 


NEW YORK 

HURST & COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS 


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A 


Copyright, 1911, 

By 

HURST & COMPANY 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. A Red-hot Stove and Destiny . . 5 

II. “We're Going to Join the Navy” . . 17 

III. Uncle Sam Gets Two Raw Recruits 28 

IV. The Dreadnought Boys Have an 

Adventure 42 

V. Two Lads With the “Right Ring” . 51 

VI. A Coward's Blow 62 

VII. “We Are Part of the Fleet” ... 70 
VIII. Herc Takes a Cold Bath .... 83 

IX. A Naval Initiation 98 

X. Ned Holds His Counsel 106 

XI. Breaking Two Rookies 116 

XII. A Bully Gets a Lesson 126 

XIII. Herc Learns What “The Brig” Is . 136 

XIV. A Plot Overheard 143 

XV. Ordered Aft 154 

XVI. A Bit of Promotion 163 

XVII. Jiu-Jitsu vs. Muscle 171 


3 


4 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIII. .The Boys Get Acquainted With Big 

Guns 183 

XIX. In the Midst of Peace . . . . . 192 

XX. Herc a Living Target 200 

XXL Afloat and Ashore 212 

XXIL A Mysterious Disappearance . . . 223 

XXIIL A Jackie Against Wolves . . . .231 

XXIV. In the Pulsifers' Hands 242 

XXV. Three Minutes of Life 253 

XXVI. A Bluff Called 264 

XXVII. A Strange Return 273 

XXVIIL A Hit With Chaosite 282 

XXIX. Tee Stuff a Jackie's Made of . . . 292 


The Dreadnought Boys On 
Battle Practice. 


CHAPTER I. 

A RED-HOT STOVE AND DESTINY. 

"Isn’t it a dandy picture — the real thing — just 
as I’ve always imagined it. Here!” 

Ned Strong wheeled from the gaudily colored 
lithograph he had been admiring, and turned to 
a red-headed youth of about his own age — almost 
eighteen — who stood beside him in the postoffice 
and general store at Lambs’ Corners, a remote 
village in the Catskill mountains. 

"It’s purty as a yearling colt,” responded the 
lad addressed, examining once more, with an im- 
portant air of criticism, the poster in question. 
The lithograph had been tacked up only the day 
before, but by this time half the boys in the neigh- 
boring country had examined it. 

The poster represented a stalwart, barefooted 
jackie, in Uncle Sam’s natty uniform, standing 


6 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


on the flying-bridge of a battleship and “wig- 
wagging” the commanding officer’s messages. 
The bright-red signal flag, with its white center, 
which he wielded, made a vivid splash of color. 
Tn the background a graphically depicted sea, 
flecked with “whitecaps,” was pictured. As a 
whole, the design was one well calculated to 
catch the attention of all wholesome, adventurous 
lads, particularly two, who, like our new acquain- 
tances, had never seen any water but the Hudson 
River. Indeed, as that majestic stream lay 
twenty miles from their home, they had only set 
eyes on that at long intervals. 

“Look how that ship seems to ride that sea — 
as if those racing waves didn’t bother her a bit,” 
went on Ned, dwelling on the details of the poster, 
which was issued to every postoffice in the 
land by the Bureau of Navigation. 

“And look at the sailor,” urged Here Taylor, 
Ned’s cousin. Here had been christened Hercu- 
les by his parents, who, like Ned’s, had died in his 
infancy, but Here he had always been and was 
likely to remain. 

“What’s he waving at — sea-cows?” 

“See here, Here Taylor, this is serious. 
Wouldn’t working for Uncle Sam in a uniform 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


7 


like that on a first-class fighting-ship suit you 
better than doing chores? How would a life on 
the ocean wave appeal to you, eh?” inquired Ned, 
with rather a mischievous twinkle in his blue 
eyes. 

“First-rate,” rejoined Here. “It makes me 
think of those sea stories — those you are so fond 
of reading, Ned, 'Frank on a Gunboat/ and the 
rest.” 

“I guess a modern Dreadnought is a whole lot 
different to the vessels on board which Frank 
fought,” smiled Ned; “but I must admit that 
that picture has put some queer notions into my 
head, too.” 

“For instance, what?” demanded Here, in 
whose eyes there was a glimmer which would 
have said plain as a pike-staff to those who knew 
him that the red-headed lad had come to some 
sort of determination. 

“For instance, that I’d like to be a sailor for 
Uncle Sam, and work my way up, like some of 
those admirals and naval heroes we’ve read 
about!” exclaimed Ned, with considerable anima- 
tion. 

“Shake!” cried Here; “that’s what I’ve been 
thinking of ever since I saw that picture ” 


8 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“ Which was ten minutes ago,” put in Ned. 

“Never mind; you haven’t been looking at it 
any longer, and I can see that you are as hard 
hit by the idea of joining the navy as I am,” 
briskly interrupted Here. 

“I don’t know but what you are right, Here,” 
rejoined Ned thoughtfully. “I’ve been thinking 
that if we go on as we are, we will be doing the 
same old round of duties on grandpa’s farm ten 
years from now, just as we are doing to-day. 
Things don’t change much in the country, as you 
know, while in the navy ” 

Ned stopped, but his glowing face and spark- 
ling eyes finished the speech for him. 

“While in the navy, bing! bang! — Promotion. 
— Fire the guns! — Target! — Good shot! — First 
mate ! — Medal ! — Introduction to the president. — 
Up in the fighting-top. — Down in a submarine. — 
Bottom of the sea. — Top of the mast — whoop!” 
exploded Here, in a way that he had when he was 
excited. It was for all the world like listening 
to the detonations of an exploding package of 
firecrackers. 

“Well, the poster here does say that there are 
a lot of good chances for promotion,” soberly put 
in Ned, who had been examining the text below 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


9 


the lithograph with some attention, while Here 
had been exploding. “I’ve a good mind to try it, 
Here,” he concluded suddenly. 

“Count me in on that, too,” heartily rejoined 
his cousin, giving a few impromptu steps of what 
he declared was a sailor’s hornpipe; “and when 
we’re both admirals we’ll come back here and as- 
tonish the natives — including Hank Harkins.” 

“Who said Hank Harkins?” growled a harsh 
voice from the rear of the store, for the postoffice 
was tucked away in one corner of the Lambs’ 
Corners Emporium, in which, it was the boast 
of its proprietor, you could buy anything from a 
needle to a gang-plow. 

As the words reached the boys’ ears, a tall, 
hulking youth, of about their own age — 
shouldered his way through the knot of loungers 
gathered about the stove — for it was December, 
and cold. 

“I’ll thank you two to keep my name out of 
your conversation,” growled the newcomer, as he 
lurched up to the cousins. 

“Oh, we’d not use it unless we had to,” re- 
joined Here, facing round, his red hair seeming 
to bristle like the hackles on the back of an angry 
dog. “Since you were mean enough to persuade 


10 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


your father to post his land against us so that we 
could not take the short cut to the store, we are 
not likely to want to discuss your points, — good 
or otherwise — promiscuous.” 

“See here, Here Taylor,” glowered Hank, who 
had considerable reputation in the village as a 
bully, and^had sustained his renown as a hard 
fighter and wrestler in many a tough contest, 
“I don’t know what' you mean by promis- 
cuous ” 

“No, I didn’t think you would,” grinned Here 
cheerfully. 

“But I want to tell you here and now, that if 
I have any more of your impudence, I’m going to 
lick you, and lick you good,” concluded the bully ; 
his enmity to the two boys, who lived on an ad- 
joining farm to his father’s, not at all allayed by 
Here’s aggressive tone and evident contempt. 

“And I want to tell you that we don’t want any- 
thing to do with you,” retorted Here; “we’re 
mighty particular about our company.” 

“You young whelp, I’ll have to teach you some 
manners,” grated Hank angrily, edging up 
threateningly toward the red-headed youth, who, 
for his part, did not budge the fraction of an inch. 

“You’ll be a teacher who never studied then,” 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


11 


retorted Here hotly, as he turned away to join 
Ned, who had been regarding the disputants with 
narrowed eyes, but had said nothing so far. He 
knew Hank Harkins for a bully, and believed 
him to be a coward at heart, but he had no wish 
to get into a fistic argument with him in a public 
place like Goggins' store and postoffice. 

But by this time a number of the loungers about 
the stove had become attracted by the raised tones 
of Hank and Here and crowded around the two; 
and Hank, nothing loth to having an audience, 
proceeded to give Here what he elegantly termed 
a “tongue-lashing.” 

“So far as posting our farm went,” he sput- 
tered vindictively, “you know why that was done, 
to keep you two from pot-hunting over it. Kill- 
ing every rabbit you could and pulling down 
walls to get them out. Why,” exclaimed Hank, 
turning to the auditors who stood with gaping 
mouths in various interested postures, “those 
two fellows made a hole in our south wall that 
let our whole herd of milch cows through, 
and ” 

He stopped short at a sudden interruption. 

“That’s a lie.” The words came from Ned 
Strong. 


12 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

“Yes, you know it is. You pulled down that 
wall yourself and then to escape getting in trou- 
ble with your father you blamed us for it,” 
snapped Here. 

The bully's face twitched. He grew pale with 
anger and his rage was none the less because 
he knew Here's charges to be true. 

“Call me a liar, will you?” he gritted out, 
springing at Ned with considerable agility, con- 
sidering his hulking frame and general appear- 
ance of clumsy strength. 

“Take that!” 

Smack ! 

The bully's big hand landed fair on Ned's 
cheek, bruising it and raising an angry crimson 
mark. 

Unwilling as Ned was to fight in such a place, 
the insult was too maddening to be allowed to go 
unnoticed by any one but an arrant coward ; and 
Ned was far from being that. 

Before Hank had gathered himself together 
from the force of his unexpected blow, the quiet 
Ned was transformed from his usual docile self, 
into a formidable antagonist. His eyes blazed 
with anger as he crouched into a boxing posture 
for a breath, and then lunged full at Hank Hark- 


ON BATTLE PBACTICE 


13 


ins, who met the lighter lad’s onslaught with 
a defiant sneer. 

So quickly had it all happened that no one had 
had time to say a word, much less to interfere. 
Paul Stevens, the owner of the store, was out in 
the granary at the back helping a farmer get a 
load of oats onto his wagon. 

The loungers, nothing averse to having the 
monotony of their unceasing discussions of the 
crops and politics interrupted in such dramatic 
fashion, fell back to give the battlers room. Not 
one of them, however, dreamed of but one issue 
to the battle and that was that Ned Strong was 
in for a terrible thrashing; but, as the seconds 
slipped by, and several blows had been exchanged 
between the two, it began to appear that Ned 
was not going to prove such an easy prey as had 
at first seemed manifest. 

Hank Harkins himself, who had been surprised 
at any resistance from Here’s cousin, began to 
look uneasy as Ned, instead of going down 
before the perfect hail of blows the bully deliv- 
ered, skillfully avoided most of the lunges and 
contented himself with ducking and dodging; 
only changing his tactics now and then to deliver 
a blow when he saw a favorable opportunity. 


14 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

“Good boy, Ned,” breathed Here, as he saw 
his companion wading into Hank Harkins in 
such surprising style. 

Even the loyal Here had not hitherto dreamed 
that beneath Ned’s quiet personality had been 
hidden such ability to take care of himself. 

Hank, after the first few minutes, was breath- 
ing heavily, and the sweat began to pour off his 
face. A pampered, only son, he never did much 
hard work about the farm, whereas Ned’s 
muscles were trained fine as nickel-steel by hay- 
pitching, wood-sawing and other strenuous tasks. 
His training stood him in good stead now. 

Overmatched by Hank, he undoubtedly was, 
but his hard frame was the more enduring. 
Hank’s punches, terrific enough at first, began 
gradually to grow weaker, more particularly as 
most of them had been wasted on empty space. 

Finally Hank, perceiving that he was reaching 
the end of his rope, clenched his teeth and, with 
set face and narrowed eyes, made up his mind to 
end the fight in one supreme effort. 

He hurled himself on his lighter antagonist 
like a thunderbolt, but Ned, with a skillful duck, 
avoided the full fury of the onslaught, and rising 
just as the bully launched his blows into thin air, 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 15 

caught his lumbering opponent full under the 
chin. 

Swinging his arms, like a scarecrow in a wind- 
storm, the bully plunged backward under the 
effective blow. 

“Hurray for Ned Strong shouted Here 
ecstatically, as the bully's big frame reeled stag- 
geringly backward. 

The next minute, however, his delight changed 
to a groan of dismay as Hank, unable to control 
himself, crashed, full tilt, into the stove. With 
a deafening clatter, like that of a mad bull 
careening round a tinware shop, the heater and 
its long pipe, came toppling in a sooty confusion 
to the ground. Red-hot coals shot out in every 
direction. 

In the midst of the wreckage sprawled the un- 
lucky bully, his features bedaubed with black. 
Through this mask his look of puzzled rage at 
his defeat came so comically that Ned and Here 
could not restrain themselves, but, even in the 
face of the disaster to the store stove, burst into 
uncontrollable fits of laughter. In the meantime 
some one hurled a bucket of water on the coals, 
and the bully was drenched. 

The onlookers, their risibilities also tickled by 


16 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

the downfall of the bully, and the noisy demolition 
of the stove, joined in the merriment and the 
laden shelves of the store were echoing to a per- 
fect tempest of laughter when suddenly the rear 
door opened and Paul Stevens entered. A look 
of dismay appeared on his lean features as his 
eyes lighted on the wreckage. 

With him was another figure whose unex- 
pected appearance caused the boys’ faces to as- 
sume almost as dismayed a look as the counte- 
nance of the storekeeper. 

“Grandfather !” gasped Ned, as his eyes en- 
countered the angry glare of the newcomer’s pale 
orbs. 

“Yes, — grandfather,” snapped the other, 
whose weather-beaten face was adorned with a 
tuft of gray hair on the chin, in the style popu- 
larly known as “the goatee.” 

“What have you got to say in explanation of 
this?” 

As he rasped out this query in a harsh, rusty 
voice like the creaking of a long disused hinge, 
• old Zack Strong pointed to the wreckage. From 
the midst of it was rising the bully, plentifully 
besmeared with soot, but doing his best to main- 
tain a Took of injured innocence. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


17 


CHAPTER II. 

"we're: going to join the navy” 

Old Zack Strong was not one of those men 
who can distinguish between boyish high spirits 
and what he would have termed "downright 
pesky cussedness.” In this latter quality, indeed, 
he believed both his grandsons — Ned, and his 
dead second son’s offspring, Here, — to be plenti- 
fully endowed. Not naturally bad-hearted, how- 
ever, the old man had assumed the care of the 
cousins on the death of their parents, but even 
with his act of adoption there came the thought 
to his frugal mind: "They’ll be a great help 
’round the farm.” 

In his hopes in this direction the old man had 
not been disappointed. Both boys had entered 
into the work with painstaking thoroughness ; 
but it must be admitted that to adventurous lads, 
the monotonous grind of a remote farm in the 
hills is somewhat dampening. Ever since Ned 
and Here had left the district school and become, 


18 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


in a more thorough sense than ever, “helps” to 
their grandfather, the old man had chafed at their 
hunting expeditions and proclivities toward base- 
ball and other games. He could not see that 
pitching hay, milking, and doing chores, was not 
the full-rounded end of existence for any lads. 

So, when, on this bitter December afternoon, 
he entered the store unexpectedly on his way back 
from delivering a wagon-load of grist at the 
water-driven mill at Westerlo, a nearby village, 
his chagrin may be imagined when he discovered 
his two young charges occupying the centre of 
the scene depicted in the last chapter. 

In Zack Strong’s hard creed there was only 
one sin worse than playing — or “fooling,” as he 
called it — and that was fighting. 

And it was only too evident that in the latter 
of these heinous offences one at least of the boys 
had been indulging. 

Worse still, in the wrecked stove the old 
farmer foresaw a demand for damages on the 
storekeeper’s part, and there was only one thing 
harder to wring from Zack than a smile, and 
that article was money. If the average farmer 
is what may be described as “close-fisted,” old 
Zack was “cement-fisted.” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


19 


With this side-light on their grandfather’s 
character in view, the consternation of the boys 
may be understood when they met his amazed 
and indignant gaze resting accusingly on them. 

“Mean?” stammered Hank, wiping as best he 
could some of the soot off his mottled countenance 
and echoing the old man’s last words. “It means 
that your two boys here have made a brutal and 
unprovoked attack on me and that ” 

“And that my stove is busted to Kingdom 
Come !” disgustedly sputtered Paul Stevens, 
whose cadaverous features had been busily scan- 
ning the wreckage in the brief interval of time 
that had elapsed between the entrance of him- 
self and Zack Strong and the seemingly right- 
eously indignant outburst of the bully. 

“Never mind your stove now,” grated out the 
hard-featured old farmer, wishing devoutly that 
the stove could be “never-minded” altogether, 
“what I want to find out is what these boys here 
have been up to. What kind of deviltry they 
have been at.” 

“We haven’t been at any deviltry, as you please 
to call it, grandpa,” burst out Ned, striving to 
keep cool, though he was burning inwardly with 
indignation and humiliation. 


20 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“Eh-eh-eh ?” grunted the old man incredulous- 
ly, “that's fine talking, but what's all this I see? 
How did that young man come to be all mixed 
up in the stove?” 

“Through no wish of his own you may be 
sure,” chuckled the irrepressible Here. “Say, 
Hank, you look like a skunk — all black and white, 
you know ” 

“Silence, sir,” roared his grandfather, with as 
near an approach to a stern bass as his wheezy 
voice would allow. “Who started this ?” 

Ned remained silent. It was not his wish to 
tell tales, and he had no desire to act as an in- 
former. 

“Why, Hank Harkins here started it,” spoke 
up Si Ingalls, a young farmer who had formed 
one of the group about the demolished stove, “he 
slapped Ned in the jaw and Ned — rightly, too — 
came back at him. Am I correct?” he asked, 
turning to the others. 

“Hank's face looks it,” grinned Luke Bates, 
the village wit, regarding Hank, who was quiv- 
ering with fury, in an amused way, “never mix 
it up with a stove, Hank,” he went on, “it’ll get 
the best of you every time.” 

“Is this right?” demanded old Zack, turning to 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


21 


his grandson as soon as the laugh at Hank’s ex- 
pense subsided. 

“Oh, yes, that’s about the way it happened, I 
guess,” said Ned in a low voice. 

“What I want to know is who’s going to settle 
for my stove,” wailed Paul Stevens. “Here’s a 
cracked draught-piece, a busted door, two lengths 
of stove-pipe flattened out like pancakes and soot 
all over a fine piece of dress goods.” 

“Name your price,” groaned old Zack, wincing 
as if a twinge of rheumatism had passed through 
him, “but don’t make it too steep,” he added, cau- 
tiously, “or I won’t pay it. How much, now?” 

The storekeeper made a rapid mental calcula- 
tion, in which his fingers and various grimaces 
played an important part. 

“There’s the stove door, say seventy-five cents ; 
and the pipe, two lengths, a dollar; and the 
draught-piece — I’ll have to send to New York 
for another, sixty cents; and the spoiled dress 
goods ” 

“You’ll only have to cut the outside edge off 
them,” objected old Zack, his lips twitching 
nervously as the rising tide of expenses swamped 
his cautious senses. 

“Wall, that’ll be a yard, anyhow,” announced 


22 % 


JHE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

the storekeeper, “that is twenty-five cents, we'll 
say. Two dollars thirty-five for the whole she- 
bang." 

“Two dollars thirty-five. It's rank robbery," 
objected the old farmer, almost giving utterance 
to a groan. 

“Of course I may be able to straighten out the 
stove pipe," admitted Paul Stevens, reluctantly, 
“and you are an old customer. I'll make it two 
dollars and ten cents to you." 

Reluctantly old Zack drew out a battered wal- 
let and drew from it two one-dollar bills, being 
careful not to display the rest of its contents. 
Then, after much fumbling in the recesses of his 
clothing, he produced a small leather purse from 
which he drew a ten cent piece. These he ten- 
dered with an agonized expression to the store- 
keeper. 

“Canadian," sniffed the storekeeper, regarding 
the bit of silver. 

“It's good," objected old Zack. 

“Not to me. Come, I let you off light on the 
stove and the other damage them boys have done ; 
give me a good dime." 

Reluctantly old Zack took back the rejected 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 23 

coin and substituted for it a piece of United 
States silver. 

“There you are,” he grumbled, “those pesky 
boys will bankrupt me yet.” 

All this time the boys, standing aloof from the 
crowd of loungers, had regarded the scene with 
very different expressions. Here's lips trembled 
with suppressed laughter as he witnessed the 
painful operation of separating old Zack from 
his beloved money, while Ned's face bore a 
thoughtful look, as if he were revolving some 
serious project in his mind. Hank Harkins had 
taken advantage of the temporary diversion from 
himself as a centre of interest to shuffle off, and 
was by this time well on his way home, consider- 
ing, as he went, the best way in which he could 
explain his soot-smeared face and rapidly swell- 
ing eye. 

A short time afterwards the boys accompanied 
their elder to his spring-wagon and, as they had 
walked down to the store, prepared to accompany 
him home. 

“Look out for squalls,” Here whispered to Ned, 
as the two lads unhitched the team. His warn- 
ing was not ill-judged. The vials of old Zack's 


24 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


wrath burst with the fury of a midsummer storm 
above the boys’ heads as soon as the wagon had 
clattered out of the village and was climbing the 
steep ascent to Zack Strong’s farm. 

“Of all the useless, idle scamps that I ever had 
on the farm, you are the worst,” began the 
querulous old man, “and then, to cap it all, you 
go to fighting and brawling in public and cost 
me two dollars and an American dime to settle it. 
I don’t see why Paul Stevens couldn’t have taken 
that Canadian one. They’re as good as any oth- 
ers, in some places,” he went on, his mind revert- 
ing to his other grievance, “but that’s the way in 
this world, nothing but ingratitude everywhere 
you turn. I’ve nourished a pair of sar-pints, 
that’s what I’ve done. You’re rattle-brains, 
both on yer.” 

He turned a sour enough countenance on the 
two lads as he spoke. 

“Sort of rattlesnakes, eh ?” cheerfully re- 
marked the irrepressible Here. “It’s no use being 
angry, gran’pa,” he went on, “we’d finished 
splitting the last of that tough hickory before we 
came down to the village and, as there was noth- 
ing else to do till chore-time ” 

“You spent it in disgracing yourselves, eh?” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


25 


grimly rejoined old Zack. “I’m tired of it, I tell 
you,” he railed on, “and ” 

“And so are we,” quietly broke in Ned, 
whose face still wore the same thoughtful 
look that had come over it just before they left 
the store. 

“What?” quavered the old man, as if he 
thought he had not heard aright. 

“I mean 'so are we tired of it/ ” repeated Ned, 
slowly, but in a firm voice, “we work for you 
early and late, grandpa, and nothing ever comes 
of it but scolding and fault-finding.” 

“Didn’t I pay two dollars ten cents for that 
busted stove, Ned?” complained old Zack, “and 
I’ll swear the damage wasn’t more’n one ninety- 
eight, and ” 

“That’s not the question, now,” went on Ned, 
in the same quiet, determined voice, “as it was 
partly my fault that the stove was overturned I’ll 
pay you back that out of my own pocket.” 

“What, — you ain’t got no money!” exclaimed 
old Zack incredulously and in somewhat alarmed 
tones. There was a note in Ned’s voice he had 
never heard there before and he saw his authority 
melting away like snow in the spring, “and be- 
sides, maybe I was a bit hasty, Ned. Come, we’ll 


26 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


call it square and you do your work right in 
future and we’ll say no more about it.” 

“I shall do only a little more work for you, 
gran’pa,” was Ned’s amazing reply, which almost 
caused the old man to drop his lines and fall 
backward off his seat. 

“What’s that?” he cried, and his voice fairly 
squeaked under the stress of his great astonish- 
ment. 

“I said,” calmly repeated Ned, “that I shall not 
do much more work for you, grandpa, and neither 
will Here here, I guess. We are going away.” 

It was Here’s turn to look astonished. Ac- 
customed as he was to accept Ned’s opinion in 
most things, this latest resolve seemed somewhat 
drastic even to the impetuous red-headed youth. 

“Why, you ain’t got no money?” stammered 
old Zack, not being able to think of anything else 
to say in his great amazement. 

“Oh, yes, I have,” quietly rejoined Ned. “I 
have fifty dollars saved up that I got for skins 
last winter and Here has about the same sum. 
That will carry us a little way, I guess.” 

“Why, Ned, boy! Land o’ Goshen, what have 
yer set yer mind on doin’?” gasped the farmer. 

“We’re going to enter the navy/’ announced 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


27 


Ned, in these same quiet, determined tones ; which 
unmistakably meant to anyone who knew him 
that his mind was made up beyond the possibility 
of change. 

“What, out on the water ?’’ gasped old Zack, 
his mind in a whirl at this sudden kicking over 
the traces of authority. 

“I believe they usually sail the vessels of Uncle 
Sam's navy on the water," chirped the irrepressi- 
ble Here, who, his first astonishment over, had 
quite resolved to follow his cousin’s footsteps 
wherever they might lead. 

The sarcasm was lost on old Zack, however. 
He even forgot to emit his customary minute 
interval cry of “Geddap !’’ to his old team which, 
in consequence, came to a dead standstill in the 
middle of the road. 

“Of course we shall stay and help you till you 
get a hired man to suit you," went on Ned, with 
quiet sarcasm. 

“Yes — yes," quavered the old man, chirruping 
to his stationary team, and seemingly dazed by 
the sudden announcement of the boys’ intentions. 

“In the navy — out on the water," he muttered 
as they drove on, “Land o’ Goshen!— two dol- 
lars!— fights!— busted stoves!— the navy!” 


28 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER III. 

UNCLE SAM GETS TWO RAW RECRUITS. 

Old Zack’s daze was not dispelled the next 
morning when, having done their work as usual, 
the boys set off to trudge the six miles into 
Lambs’ Corners. 

‘Will you be back to dinner?” the old man 
croaked, in such a quavering voice that even 
Here felt sorry for him. 

“We’ll be back before then, and make up the 
time we’ve lost before night,” Ned assured him, 
as the two cousins swung off to take what they 
both felt was the final step of their resolve. 

They had lain awake most of the night in the 
room they shared, discussing the future, and had 
decided to abide by the decision they had so 
hastily arrived at, whatever might happen. 

“Things have come to the cross roads of op- 
portunity,” was the way Ned put it, “we’ve got 
to strike out now and sink or swim.” 

During the course of their conversation it had 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


29 


occurred to Ned that in reading over the printed 
matter beneath the picture which had attracted 
their attention in the post office the day before, 
he had come across instructions to ask the post- 
master for a post card, which was free on ap- 
plication. This card, when mailed to the Navy 
Department, so the poster said, would bring the 
applicant additional information regarding the 
navy, in the form of booklets and pamphlets. 

As soon as the boys arrived in the postoffice 
they perceived that they were the objects of very 
general scrutiny by the usual group assembled 
'round the re-erected stove. They paid no atten- 
tion to the comments of the knot of spectators, 
however, but marched straight up to the little 
pigeon hole, behind which Paul Stevens attended 
to the weighty matters of the U. S. mail, and 
demanded two of the post cards the poster men- 
tioned. With a lifting of his eyebrows the post- 
master handed them out. 

“Seems like everyone in the place is goin' ter 
enlist, or whatever you call it,” he remarked. 
“Hank Harkins was in here early to-day and 
got one of them cards. I reckon he's thinking of 
getting a chore boy's job in the navy, too.” 

This was news to the boys and not particularly 


30 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


welcome news, either. They had no desire to 
come into further contact with the lumbering 
Hank, but inasmuch as they had no control over 
his movements, they accepted the situation with 
the best grace they could. 

A few days later the literature arrived from 
Washington and the boys put their heads to- 
gether over it during their leisure time, exam- 
ing the prospects held out from every aspect. 
The result was, as might have been expected, 
that their resolution became more firmly set than 
ever and a week after they received the booklets 
and other information they bade good-bye to 
old Zack, who had by this time acquired resig- 
nation and a hired man, and started for the 
village whence they were to take the stage to 
Granville, the railroad town. 

As may be imagined, the boys felt little regret 
on leaving the farm and old Zack, and were not 
hypocrites enough to pretend to any great affec- 
tion for their surroundings of so many monot- 
onous years. Old Zack wrung his hands and 
lamented, to be sure, but as the boys knew that 
his grief was caused more by the loss of two 
husky helpers than by any personal regret, they 
did not pay much attention to his protestations. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


31 


As they strode through the old farm gates 
there did come over them a momentary twinge 
of feeling at the idea that the portals that they 
had so often opened and shut as they went about 
their work, were closing behind them for per- 
haps the last time. It was only a momentary 
emotion, however, and was speedily dispelled by 
a shout of “Hey!” from old Zack, who came 
running after them from the barn where he had 
spent the time since, he had said good-by, in 
scolding the new hired man. 

The two lads halted and set down their brand 
new suit-cases in the dusty track. 

“Say!” panted old Zack, clumsily loping up to 
them, and holding out something in his withered 
fingers, “here’s something you boys may need. 
Take it, anyhow; I’ll give it yer.” 

In his digits he extended to them the Canadian 
dime, rejected by the postmaster on the afternoon 
of the disaster to the stove. 

Hardly able to restrain their laughter, the boys 
accepted the gift with becoming gravity, and once 
more said farewell to the old man. 

“It’ll do as a luck-piece, anyhow,” laughed 
Ned, as they trudged on and a turn in the road 
blotted out from their eyes the old farm-house, 


32 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


its weather-beaten out-buildings and fertile fields. 
It was to be many a day before they saw it again 
and many adventures, of which they little 
dreamed at the moment, were to be experienced 
by them before they once more encountered it. 

In due time the stage reached the Granville 
ferry and five hours later the railroad brought 
the two lads down the east bank of the Hudson 
to New York. They stood dazed and confused 
outside the Grand Central station looking with 
amazed eyes on the roar and confusion of traffic 
that swirled by them. It was mid afternoon and 
they had yet to report at the recruiting station, 
of which they had the address in their pockets. 

Ned stepped up to a policeman who stood at 
the crossing directing the flow of traffic by blasts 
on a whistle. 

He extended the piece of paper which bore the 
address: “U. S. Navy Recruiting Station, No. 
394 Bowery,” on it. 

“Can you please tell us how to get there ?” he 
asked, somewhat tremblingly. It was the first 
real live policeman he had ever addressed, and 
the country boy felt somewhat awed. 

“I’m a traffic cop. Ask the man on post,” 
snapped the policeman. With a sharp blast on 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


33 


his whistle he started the cross-town traffic, 
which had halted, to moving again, paying no 
further attention to the tall sun-burned lad with 
the shining new suit-case. 

Somewhat taken aback at this reception, the lad 
looked at his companion with a puzzled expres- 
sion. 

“I guess he regulates the traffic,” suggested 
Here, in response to the silent query, “see that 
horse’s head in a wheel embroidered on his arm ? 
Let’s look for a policeman without that and I 
guess he’ll be the right man to inquire from.” 

Following Here’s suggestion Ned’s eyes soon 
lighted on a stout bluecoat who stood talking to 
a number of taxi-cab drivers and seemed to have 
nothing to do with the regulation of traffic; or, 
in fact, anything else. This time he got a quick 
answer to his question. 

“394 Bowery,” repeated -the patrolman, “shure 
any one knows where that is,” and he looked 
at Ned and Here pityingly as if they were some 
strange sort of creatures and much to be sympa- 
thized with. 

“Yes, officer, but we are strangers in the city, 
and ” 

“Sure, any one could tell you were Rubes from 


34 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

the cut of your jibs,” grinned the patrolman, 
while the taxi-cabbies set up a laugh. “Goin' ter 
enlist in the navy, eh?” he went on, scrutinizing 
Ned's bit of paper, “well, Heaven help ye. 
They'll feed ye on skilly, and milk from a tin- 
cow, and put yer ter bed in a haythanish ham- 
mock of nights.” 

“We are going to become sailors in Uncle 
Sam's navy,” proudly rejoined Ned, “and we 
think it's a service which any man should be 
proud to be privileged to join.” 

His face flushed indignantly, and he felt a 
flash of anger at the contemptuous tone of the 
fat policeman. 

“Oh well, be aisy,” rejoined the bluecoat, “I 
meant no harm; but my wife's sister's cousin 
Mary had a son as went for sailor and they 
brought him home in a coflin, that’s all. He was 
blowed to bits by an explosion of one of the big 
guns. The police force is good enough for me 
and by the same token I should think two likely 
looking lads like you would like to jine the force.” 

“Our time is limited,” broke in the still in- 
dignant Ned, “will you please direct us to the 
address I showed you?” 

“Shure I will, me bye,” amiably replied the un- 

i 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


35 


ruffled patrolman, “walk to your left two blocks 
and take a Third Avenue car down town. When 
she gets onto the Bowery watch the numbers and 
you can’t miss it.” 

With a brief word of thanks the boys hastened 
off in the direction indicated. As they walked 
away they heard the policeman remark to his 
friends, the chauffeurs: 

“Waal, there goes more food for powder.” 

“I’m glad we’re not staying in New York. I 
don’t believe I should care much for it,” said 
Here, as the boys walked toward Third Avenue, 
their ears stunned by the din all about them. 

“Nor I,” responded Ned. “However, if we 
pass our tests and are accepted, we shall not 
have to stop here longer than overnight. That’s 
one comfort.” 

“That’s so,” assented Here. “I used to think 
there was an ear-splitting racket about the place 
on hog-killing day, but it was nothing to this.” 

Thus conversing they boarded a Third Avenue 
car and rode for half an hour or more. 

“Here you are, boys — here’s Number 394.” 

The conductor of the car poked his head in 
through the doors and gave his bell one jerk, 
which brought it to a stop. 


36 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


The boys hastened from the car, and found 
themselves opposite a not particularly prepossess- 
ing looking building, the lower floor of which was 
occupied by an old book store. But above an 
open door leading to the upper stories, which had 
been newly painted and presented a neat appear- 
ance, floated a flag that made both their hearts 
beat quicker. If all went well, they would soon 
be enlisted under it. Old Glory hung bravely 
above the dingy portal, amid the hurry and 
squalidness of the surroundings. 

“Well, here’s the place, Here.” 

But to Ned’s surprise, Here stopped short and 
was standing irresolutely behind him. 

“Um-ah! I guess we’d better walk around the 
block a couple of times first, Ned,” stammered 
the red-headed youth. 

“What’s the trouble?” laughed Ned. “You 
look as awkward as a hired man going courting. 
You don’t mean to say that you are nervous?” 

“No,” protested Here, “not nervous, Ned; but 

— but Well, the fact is, I’d have liked a 

little preparation first, as the fellow said when 
he fell into the well on Luke Bates’ place up 
home.” 

“You’re going to come in with me right now,” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


37 


said Ned grimly, seizing Here's arm in a grip 
there was no resisting. 

Together the two lads passed through the door 
and up a flight of stairs. At the head of the flight 
they found a well-furnished office confronting 
them. A rather brusque-looking man, with a pair 
of formidable mustaches, sat at a table facing 
them. 

“Well?” he demanded somewhat truculently. 

“Well,” the irrepressible Here was beginning 
in the same aggressive tone, when Ned checked 
him. 

“We wish to enlist in the navy. Have we come 
to the right place, sir?” he asked civilly. 

“You have, my boys,” was the response in 
heartier tone ; “and if you mean business, I think 
I can promise, from looking you over casually, 
that you'll pass with flying colors. Fill out these 
blanks, and I'll see what you're made of. We 
have so many fakes we have to be careful.” 

He pushed toward the boys two large sheets of 
paper. On them were printed numerous ques- 
tions about themselves, their parents, their pre- 
vious condition of life, and so forth. 

“Gee! this is like passing an examination at 
'school,” whispered Here, as the boys sat down 


38 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


with pen and ink at a corner table and prepared 
to fill out the blank spaces left for answers. 

“Hush !” cautioned Ned. 

“Or the papers you fill out when you enter a 
prize heifer at the county fair/’ continued the 
incorrigible red-headed youth. 

Despite Here’s frequent remarks, breathed in 
a cautious undertone, the questions were all an- 
swered in due time and the papers handed over to 
the bristly mustached man, who eyed them ap- 
provingly. 

“Good!” he snapped. “Neat and satisfactory. 
Now,” he continued, “go into that room and un- 
dergo a physical examination.” 

He indicated a door, which the boys opened 
with somewhat of a feeling of awe, and found 
themselves in the presence of a surgeon, who or- 
dered them to disrobe and conducted a thorough 
examination of them. 

“Just as if we were a pair of fat porkers,” com- 
mented Here afterward. 

“They are magnificent physical specimens,” re- 
ported the surgeon to the bristly mustached man, 
who, though the boys did not then know it, was 
a quartermaster detailed to recruiting duty. 

“Good !” snapped the quartermaster once more. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


39 


“They have already given me the written consent 
of their guardian, so nothing remains to be done 
but to administer the oath.” 

The solemn oath of allegiance to duty and 
country was then administered to the boys, who 
stood bolt upright, with round eyes, while the 
impressive little ceremony was gone through. 
Even the volatile Here seemed impressed by the 
seriousness of what they were undertaking. 

“And now we are blue jackets,” said Ned, as 
they concluded and subscribed their names to the 
oath. 

“Not yet,” laughed the quartermaster. “You 
will now have to go to the Naval Training School 
at Newport as apprentice seamen.” 

“Only apprentices,” sighed Here. “I thought 
we were out of that class.” 

“As apprentice seamen,” went on the officer, 
not noticing the interruption, “you will receive 
pay during your four months of instruction, and 
will be furnished uniforms and equipment free, as 
well as board.” 

He reached into a drawer. 

“Here is your transportation to Newport. The 
boat leaves to-night at six o’clock,” he went on, 
handing the boys some tickets. “I hope you boys, 


40 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


who look to be the stuff of which real seamen are 
made, will work hard and succeed.” 

“Thank you, sir. We will if effort counts for 
anything,” promised Ned. 

With light hearts the two boys made their way 
to the street a few minutes later. As they passed 
under the flag once more, Ned drew himself up 
stiffly and saluted. 

“Why do you do that?” asked Here curiously, 
as he watched his companion’s action. 

“Because we are now sailors under that flag in 
the United States navy,” replied Ned proudly. 
“You should do the same, Here. We’re Dread- 
nought Boys from now on.” 

“All right. I will salute next time,” easily re- 
sponded Here. “And now, as we have some few 
hours before the boat goes, let’s saunter round a 
bit and see the sights.” 

As the boys, having inquired the way, started 
toward Broadway, they almost collided with a tall 
figure that was hastening into the door of the 
recruiting office. 

“Out of my way, can’t you?” the newcomer 
exclaimed querulously, shoving roughly by. 
“What are you barricading the door of the naval 
recruiting office for? I’ll report you.” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


41 


“ We're here because we are now apprentice 
seamen in the navy, Hank Harkins,” rejoined 
Ned, who had recognized the bully oefore the 
other had realized with whom he had almost col- 
lided. 

Hank glanced angrily at the two lads, but re- 
frained from speaking. Instead, he hurried up 
the stairs leading to the recruiting office, paying 
no attention to his country’s flag. 

“There goes a fine addition to the navy,” 
sneered Here, as the boys started off for Broad- 
way. 

“Don’t say that, Here. The navy may make a 
man of him,” remarked Ned. 

“Then it’s got a fine big job on its hands, that’s 
all I’ve got to say!” was the red-headed lad’s re- 
joinder. 


42 


(THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER IV. 

the: dreadnought boys have: an 
adventure:. 

The Rhode Island, the largest and fleetest of 
the big passenger vessels plying Long Island 
Sound between New York and New England 
ports, was ploughing her way through a wild, 
bitter night in the latter part of March, down 
the narrow, tempestuous passage of water divid- 
ing the mainland from the low-lying expanse of 
Long Island. 

Although the snow swirled and the wind 
screamed through the vessel's funnel stays and 
lofty wireless aerials as if it would root them 
out, every window and porthole on her three lofty 
decks glowed with a cheerful yellow light. The 
lively strains of an orchestra were occasionally 
swirled away on the fierce wind, when the door 
of the main saloon swung open to admit or give 
egress to a passenger. 

The laboring vessel had run into the storm at 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


43 


sundown that evening, and now, as she forged 
her way through the choppy seas off Point Judith, 
she was, despite her great size, thrown and 
tossed about like an empty bottle at the mercy of 
the seas. 

As the vessel gave an unusually heavy plunge, 
the companion door once more opened, and in 
the sudden flood of light that illumined the dark 
decks for a brief interval, the stalwart figures of 
the two Dreadnought Boys were revealed. Both 
wore heavy “service” overcoats buttoned up to 
iheir chins, and these they secured more tightly 
about themselves as they faced the storm. 

Both lads were heavier, even more bronzed, 
and keener of eye than when we saw them last. 
Their four months of vigorous training had, too, 
given them a manly air of self-reliance. 

“Wow!” exclaimed Here, as the wind hit them 
full and square and gave pause for a second even 
to their well-knit frames. “This is a hummer, and 
no mistake, Ned!” 

“Nothing to what we’ll get when we go cruis- 
ing under Uncle Sam’s flag,” laughed the other. 
“I tell you, Here, that this isn’t a circumstance to 
the gales I’ve heard they get off Cape Hatteras.” 

“Why, what are you talking about?” rejoined 


44 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Here, pulling his cap closer over his head of 
bright red hair. “This wind is worse than the 
one that blew the roof off gran’pa’s barn last New 
Year’s eve, and that was a hummer, if you like 
it !” 

“Still thinking of the old farm and Lambs’ 
Corners, eh?” laughed his companion, with a 
hearty chuckle that sounded as if it came from 
the depth of his full, deep chest and excellent 
lungs. “Well, now that you’re a full-fledged 
jackie, Here, it’s time to forget the stock and 
the barnyard, and think of the big guns and the 
fighting tops.” 

“Well, anyhow,” grunted Here, as if to change 
the conversation, “blowing as it is, I’d rather be 
out here than in that stuffy saloon, for all 
the lights and the music and the dressed-up 
ladies.” 

“Same here,” rejoined his companion. “Crickey ! 
that was a lurch, if you like! Hold on, Here!” 
he shouted, as the other went sliding off across 
the slippery deck, under the impetus of the plunge. 
“We don’t want to lose you just yet, you know. 
And, moreover, this is no skating rink, but a 
passenger steamer carrying two new-fledged or- 
dinary seamen ” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


45 


“Blamed ordinary !” grunted Here, in paren- 
thesis. 

“From the Naval Training School at Newport 
to New York, to join their ship, the U. S. S. Man- 
hattan ■ ” went on Ned. 

“Dreadnought, isn’t she?” sputtered Here, as 
a great, hurtling mass of spray was flung aboard 
by the angry wind. 

“That’s right. The newest vessel in the navy. 
We’re mighty lucky boys to have got the berths.” 

“I agree with you,” rejoined Here, brushing 
his hand across his eyes, where the tang of the 
salt water still stung him. “I’d be altogether as 
satisfied as a woodchuck in a corn patch if only 
that fellow Hank Harkins hadn’t been detailed to 
the same squadron. He means to give us trouble, 
Ned. I’m sure of it.” 

“I’m not afraid of any trouble that a bullying 
cad like Harkins can make,” was Ned’s brisk re- 
ply. “Anyhow, he is detailed to duty on the 
Illinois; and now, Here, we’ve been standing here 
long enough. We’ll take a brisk walk around 
the decks, to get the cobwebs out of our brains, 
and then we’ll turn in — how’s that suit you?” 

“Fine,” rejoined Here, as the two young sea- 
men started to circle the swaying decks at a good 


46 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


brisk pace. ‘Tm as sleepy as Uncle Fred’s prize 
Berkshire after a bran mash.” 

Immediately on being passed at the New York 
recruiting office, the lads, as we know, had been 
ordered to report at the training station at New- 
port, where they had remained for the prescribed 
four months, being given in that period a thor- 
ough schooling in the detail work of the ordinary 
seaman in the United States navy. They had also 
gone through setting-up exercises that had, even 
in that short period of time, changed their phys- 
iques from the somewhat round-shouldered, 
slouching aspect peculiar to country boys to the 
smart appearance and trim get-up of Uncle Sam’s 
sailors. 

While in the school they had received a salary 
of seventeen dollars and sixty cents a month, and 
as uniforms, food and washing were all provided 
by the government, they had incurred no ex- 
penses, and had a good part of their money in 
their pockets when they left the training-school 
with their “papers” endorsed “Excellent” in red 
ink, with a special “good-conduct” mention. 

That afternoon they had embarked on the 
Rhode Island for New York, where the vessels 
of the North Atlantic squadron lay in the North 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


47 


River, awaiting the command to leave for the 
naval base, at Guantanamo, Cuba, for battle prac- 
tice. 

“Well, Herc, ,, said Ned, after the two lads had 
circumnavigated the slippery decks a few times, 
“let's turn in, for, if I'm not mistaken, we have 
a trying day in front of us to-morrow.” 

As the boys were unlocking the door of their 
stateroom, which opened directly onto the deck, 
the Rhode Island gave a plunge that brought her 
almost on her beam-ends, and sent Here, who was 
balancing himself as best he could, while Ned 
fiddled with the lock, careening full against a 
tall, gray-mustached man of upright bearing, who 
was just about to open the door of the stateroom 
adjoining the boys'. 

Here's heavy frame, with the added impetus 
given to it by the swerve of the vessel, banged 
into the other with the force of a projectile, and 
the two went struggling helplessly toward the 
scuppers. 

Strive desperately as he would, Here could not 
regain his balance, and after waving his long, 
sinewy arms round a couple of times in a vain 
effort to recover his equilibrium, he collapsed in 
a heap at the edge of the deck. In his fall he 


48 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


\ brought down the dignified gentleman, who in the 
meantime had been striving as hard as Here to 
keep upright. 

“I — I — I beg your pardon, I’m sure!” sput- 
tered Here, as he scrambled to his feet and 
reached out a hand to assist the other to a stand- 
ing position. “It was quite an accident — as 
gran’pa said when Betsey, our muley cow, kicked 
Lem Betts in the eye.” 

“Thank you, my lad,” responded the other, ac- 
cepting Here’s aid and standing erect once more. 
“I am sure that, as in the case of your grand- 
father’s cow, the disaster was unintentional.” 

The boys, for Ned had by this time unlocked 
the door, and had been taking in the embarrassing 
incident, regarded the tall stranger with some in- 
terest. He was distinctly different from the or- 
dinary citizen. His skin was bronzed and weath- 
er-beaten, and, beneath his close-cropped gray 
mustache, his mouth quivered humorously at poor 
Here’s obvious embarrassment. 

“Why,” went on the object of their attention, 
regarding them in the light which streamed from 
the open cabin door of the boys’ stateroom, “I 
see that you lads are both recruits to the navy. 
What ship, may I ask?” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


49 


''The new Dreadnought Manhattan, sir,” said 
Ned, proudly throwing out his chest, as he always 
did instinctively when he mentioned the name of 
the big fighting ship to which they had been as- 
signed. 

The gray-mustached man’s eyes twinkled more 
than ever. 

"'The Manhattan, eh?” he repeated reflectively. 
"Well, in that case we shall probably see more of 
each other. In any case, I thank you for your 
assistance” — turning to Here — "rendered after 
you had 'boarded’ me in such unceremonious fash- 
ion.” 

With a pleasant smile, he turned into his cabin, 
picking up as he did so a suitcase which had been 
deposited by him at the stateroom door, just be- 
fore the unhappy Here went careening across the 
deck. 

"Say,” whispered Here, in an awed tone, as 
their new acquaintance vanished into his room, 
"did you see the letters on the end of the suit- 
case?” 

"No,” answered Ned sleepily, "I’m too tired 
to pay attention to anything but that snug-looking 
bunk there.” 

So saying, he closed the door on the storm, and, 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


50 

V 

seating himself on the edge of a lounge at one 
end of the cabin, began to remove his shoes. 

But Here would not let the subject drop. 

“Well, / noticed them,” he continued in the 
same awed voice, “and I believe that we’ve got 
ourselves in bad right on the start.” 

“Why, what’s the trouble, Here?” inquired 
Ned, interested despite himself in his red-headed 
companion’s eager tone. 

“Well,” said Here impressively, “it said ‘F. A. 
D., Commander U. S. N.,’ on that suitcase, and 
it looks to me as if we had started our career in 
the navy by an act ‘of gross insubordination,’ as 
they’d have called it at Newport.” 

“How do you mean?” asked the sleepy Ned, 
stifling a yawn. 

“Why, here am I, Here Taylor, ordinary sea- 
man, of Lambs’ Corners, New York, butting com- 
manders about as if they were ninepins and I was 
a bowling ball, that’s all !” groaned Here. “And 
that looks to me like a first-class way to get in 
bad.” 

“Here, you are incorrigible,” groaned Ned; 
“and I agree with you. If this adventure of yours 
doesn’t turn out badly for both of us, I shall be 
much surprised.” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


51 


CHAPTER V. 

TWO tads with the: “right ring.” 

It seemed to Here that he had been asleep but a 
short time when he awakened with a start and 
an uneasy feeling that he could not account for. 

Gradually, however, as the semi-stupor that 
followed the opening of his eyes wore off and he 
became sensible of his surroundings, he was 
aware that something unusual seemed to be oc- 
curring on the ship. Shouts and the trampling 
of running feet were borne in to him, and his 
first sleepy impression was that it was morning. 

Suddenly, however, he became aware that the 
shouts formed a certain definite cry. 

What was it? 

Here straightened up as well as he could in his 
bunk and listened. 

A thrill of horror shot through him, as, like 
a flash, he sensed the nature of the shouts that 
had aroused him. 

“Fire! Fire! Fire!” 


52 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


The terrifying cry echoed from bow to stern 
of the ship and Here now recognized a fact which 
he had not in first sleepy stupor realized, and that 
was that their cabin was hazy with smoke, which 
was becoming momentarily thicker. The heat, 
also, was growing rapidly insupportable. 

With one bound, the boy was on the floor, and 
shaking Ned by the shoulder. 

“Ned, Ned, wake up!” he roared at the top of 
his voice. 

“Aye, aye, sir!” came in a sleepy voice from 
Ned, who was dreaming that he was still back in 
the training school and that reveille had blown. 

A minute later, however, Here’s shaking 
aroused him to his senses, and a few rapidly 
spoken words apprised him of the seriousness of 
the situation. 

“Tumble into your clothes quick!” gasped Here, 
as breathing in the smoke-filled room became 
every moment more difficult. 

Ned needed no second telling. In a few sec- 
onds, thanks to their training, both boys were in 
their uniforms, and, grabbing up their suitcases, 
dashed out onto the decks. 

The scene outside was one that might have 
turned cooler heads than theirs. The storm was 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


53 


still raging, and a white swirl enveloped the la- 
boring ship, but the whiteness of the snow was 
tinged a fiery red with the reflections of towering 
flames that were by this time pouring from the 
engine-room hatch of the Rhode Island , and illu- 
minating the night with their devouring splendor. 
Fire originating in a pile of oily waste against a 
wooden bulkhead had started the blaze. 

Men and women in all stages of dress and un- 
dress rushed confusedly about the decks, praying, 
screaming, blaspheming and fighting. 

In the emergency that had so suddenly arisen, 
the crew and officers of the ship seemed power- 
less to do anything. Instead of attempting to 
quiet the panic, they rushed about, apparently as 
maddened a's the rest of the persons on the ship, 
by the dire peril that confronted them. 

“The boats! The boats !” someone suddenly 
shouted, and a mad rush for the upper decks, on 
which the boats were swung, followed. Women 
were flung aside by cowardly men frenzied with 
terror. 

“Here, I can’t stand this!” shouted Ned, as, 
followed by Here, he plunged toward the foot of 
the narrow stairway up which the frenzied pas- 
sengers were fighting their way. 


54 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

'Women and children first! Women and chil- 
dren first !” the Dreadnought Boy kept shouting, 
as he elbowed his way to the foot of the steps, 
closely trailed by Here. 

The roar of the flames was by this time deafen- 
ing, drowning all other sounds. To add to the 
confusion, there now came pouring up from the 
lower regions of the ship a black and sooty crew 
— the firemen of the vessel. Maddened by fear 
and brutal by nature, the grimy stokers had 
little difficulty in shoving the weaker passen- 
gers aside and making their way to the foot 
of the stairway up which Ned and Here were 
helping the women and children and keeping 
back the cowardly male passengers as best 
they could. They were not over gentle in 
doing this latter. It was no time for halfway 
measures. 

Above them, the captain of the ship* and two 
of his officers who had partially collected their 
wits, were directing the crew to lower the boats. 
The women and children were being placed in 
them as rapidly as possible as Ned and Here 
passed them up. 

"Can you hold them back?” the captain had 
shouted down to the boys a few minutes before, 


ON BATTLE PKACTICE 55 

as he peered down at the struggling mass on the 
lower deck. 

“We’ll stick it out as long as we can,” Ned 
had assured him, as he whirled a terrified male 
passenger about and sent him spinning back- 
ward whining pitifully that he “didn’t want 
to die.” 

Suddenly Here was confronted by a huge form, 
brandishing a steel spanner in a knotty fist. 

It was one of the panic-stricken firemen. 

“Let me by, kid !” bellowed this formidable an- 
tagonist. 

“You can see for yourself that there are several 
women to go yet,” responded Here calmly, al- 
though he felt anything but easy in his mind as 
the muscular giant glared at him with terror 
and vindictiveness mingling in his gaze. “Women 
first, that’s the rule.” 

“What in blazes do I care about the women?” 
roared the fireman, behind whom were now 
ranged several of his companions. “Let me by, 
or ” 

He flourished the spanner with a suggestive 
motion anything but agreeable to Here. 

The red-headed boy gazed over in the direction 
in which he had last seen Ned. 


56 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


There was no hope for help from that quarter, 
as a glance showed him. Ned was holding back 
an excited man with long whiskers and of pros- 
perous appearance, who was shouting as if he 
w r ere a phonograph : 

“A thousand dollars for a seat in the boats! 
A thousand — two thousand dollars for a seat in 
the boats !” 

Suddenly, so suddenly that Here had not time 
to guard against it, the stokers made a concerted 
rush for him. 

“Ned! Ned!” shouted the boy, as he felt him- 
self borne down by overwhelming numbers and 
trampled underfoot. 

Ned heard the cry, and in two leaps was in 
the midst of the scuffle, dealing and receiving 
blows right and left. 

“Do you call yourselves men ?” he shouted in- 
dignantly, as the stokers fought their way for- 
ward in a grim phalanx which there was no re- 
sisting. 

“It's deuce take the hindmost, and every man 
for himself now !” shouted a voice in the crowd, 
and the cowardly mob elbowed forward through 
the few women that still remained on the stair- 
way and its approaches. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


57 


Ned and Here, who had by this time struggled 
to his feet, fought desperately to stem the tide. 
So effective were their blows that for a time 
they actually succeeded in checking the advance. 

“Oh, for a gun !” breathed Ned. 

“A cannon !” amended Here. 

Above them they heard a cheer, signifying 
that the first boat had struck the water. 

“Stick it out, Here!” panted Ned, as he 
struggled with a grimy giant, who, thanks to 
his ignorance of wrestling and tackles, was eas- 
ily hurled backward by his lighter opponent. 
But the fight was too uneven to be of long dur- 
ation. 

Step by step, fighting every inch of the way, 
the two boys were borne backward by the op- 
posing mob. Ned's foot caught in the lower step 
of the stairway and he was toppled over back- 
ward. 

A mighty onrush of the fugitives immediately 
followed, and Here shared Ned's fate. 

The thought that they had failed flashed bit- 
terly through each Dreadnought Boy's mind as 
they were trampled and crushed by hurrying 
feet of the terrified firemen, whose van was fol- 
lowed by the badly scared male passengers. The 


58 


THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 


screams of the women who were being ruth- 
lessly thrust aside tingled maddeningly in the 
boys’ ears as they strove to regain their feet. 

Suddenly, above all the noise of the fugitives 
and the crackling of the flames as they ate 
through the bulkheads about the engine-room 
hatchway, the boys heard a sharp command. 

It rang out as incisively as the report of a 
rifle, in a voice that seemed used to implicit 
obedience : 

‘Til shoot the next man up that stairway!” 

The rush came to halt for a brief second, and 
in that time the boys scrambled to their feet. 

They soon perceived the cause of the inter- 
ruption. 

Not far from them, garbed in his shirt and 
trousers, just as he had rushed from his cabin 
on awaking, stood the man who had occupied the 
neighboring cabin to theirs. 

The flames illumined the grim compression of 
his lips beneath his gray mustache. His eyes 
were narrowed to a determined angle. 

In his hand he held a blue-steel navy revolver 
on which the glare of the conflagration played 
glisteningly. 

“Come on, boys!” roared the stoker who had 




f 




ON BATTLE PRACTICE 59 

threatened Here with the spanner. “It’s just a 
bluff!” 

At his words, the spell that had fallen on the 
frightened crowd for a second seemed to be 
broken, and the rush recommenced. The boys, 
with horrified eyes, saw the giant stoker snatch 
up a woman with a child in her arms and hurl 
her brutally back into the crowd, where she dis- 
appeared, lost in the vortex of struggling hu- 
manity. 

“Crack!” 

There was a spit of vicious blue flame from 
the revolver, followed by a yell of pain from the 
giant stoker. 

The boys saw the spanner fall from his up- 
raised hand and tumble with a clatter at his feet. 
His wrist, shot through by the gray-mustached 
man’s unerring aim, hung limp at his side. 

Like frightened sheep suddenly checked in a 
stampede, the white-faced crowd came to a halt 
and faced about at the new peril. 

“That’s to show you I mean business !” grated 
out the marksman, in a voice as cold as chilled 
steel. “Now let the women go first, and then 
the men may follow.” 

Under that menacing weapon, of whose effi- 


60 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


ciency they had just received so convincing a 
proof, the men sullenly stood aside and passed 
up the half-dozen women or so who had not had 
an opportunity to take advantage of the boys’ 
plucky stand. 

From the bridge above, the captain of the 
Rhode Island hailed them. 

“Six boats are aw 7 ay ! Let the rest come !” 

“Steady, steady!” came the sharp, command- 
ing voice of the man with the pistol once more, 
as the score of men left began to scramble up 
the stairway. “One at a time! Take it easy!” 

Under his authoritative voice the rush changed 
like magic to an orderly retreat, and in a few 
minutes a seventh boat was loaded with fright- 
ened passengers and lowered onto the heaving 
sea. 

“Well, I guess we can go now, Here,” re- 
marked Ned, turning to his companion. 

“Yes, it’s getting as warm here as it is in the 
smoke house at home in July,” agreed Here, as 
he carefully picked up his suitcase, which was 
somewhat battered by the recent knocking about 
it had gone through. After Ned had likewise 
recovered his piece of baggage, the two boys 
began the ascent of the stairway. For the mo- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


61 


ment they had quite forgotten the presence of 
the gray-mustached man, of whom, as we know, 
Here stood in some awe on account of the in- 
scription he had espied on the former’s suitcase. 

Now, however, the stranger was at the boys’ 
sides. They saluted instinctively. 

“I was a witness of your plucky conduct,” he 
exclaimed warmly, “and I am glad to see that I 
was not to be disappointed in the estimate I had 
formed of both your characters. I shall keep a 
sharp lookout over your future careers as seamen 
in the navy.” 

It was a moment when ordinary barriers 
seemed to be let down, and Here, in a hesitating 
tone, asked, as they gained the boat deck : 

“Are you in the navy, too, sir, may we ask?” 

“You may, my boy,” was the hearty response. 
“I am Captain Dunham of the Manhattan .” 

“You’re all right, sir,” sputtered Here, in his 
enthusiasm entirely forgetting the respect due 
to an officer. 

The next minute, with cheeks even more crim- 
son than the flames and his exertions had painted 
them, the farmer boy plunged forward into the 
confusion of the boat deck, much embarrassed 
at his impulsive breach of discipline. 


62 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER VI. 
a coward's blow. 

Thanks to the boys' defense of the stairway, 
and the cool-headed commander's prompt action 
in quelling the onrush of the stokers, the boys 
found that there was plenty of room in the two 
boats that still remained to be lowered. Haste, 
however, was a matter of necessity, as the flames 
by this time had devoured the bulkheads and 
were sweeping forward, driven by the high wind. 

The captain of the Rhode Island had recovered 
his wits, and the loading of the boats went on 
rapidly. In its company were enrolled the cow- 
ardly stokers, at whom the boys could not gaze 
without a feeling of disgust. 

“Are not you boys going in that boat?" said 
a voice at their elbow, as the davits were swung 
out and the remainder of the crew prepared to 
lower it. 

“No, sir; as navy men," said Ned, proudly 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


63 


dwelling on the “men,” “we prefer to wait till 
the last boat to leave the ship.” 

“That’s right,” agreed the commander approv- 
ingly. 

He hastened off and assumed the control of the 
few maneuvres to be carried out before the 
Rhode Island was ready to be abandoned. The 
captain of the Rhode Island had recognized Cap- 
tain Dunham, and was anxiously trying to aid 
him; but the naval commander treated the other 
with some contempt, doubtless inspired by the 
latter’s abject failure to quell the panic in its 
inception or handle it when it broke. 

The boys now had time to gaze about them. 

The glare of the burning ship lit up the sur- 
rounding water with a weird radiance, in which 
they could see the loaded boats, already lowered, 
tossing helplessly, the crowds on each being so 
great that the sailors could not use their oars. 

“Say, Ned, suppose the boiler busts!” sudden- 
ly exclaimed the cheerful Here, as the last boat 
was swung out. 

“No use thinking of such possibilities,” re- 
joined Ned decisively. 

“Well, I can’t help it,” protested Here indig- 
nantly. “I remember when that thresher blew 


64 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

up to grandpa’s. I guess this would be something 
like that, eh, Ned?” 

“Only more so,” was the dry reply. 

Suddenly the notification that all was ready 
for the lowering of the last boat rang out. 

As this one was to be the final lifeboat to leave 
the ship, it was put overside before any one 
boarded it. The officers of the Rhode Island, the 
six members of the crew remaining, the boys and 
Commander Dunham getting into it by sliding 
down the falls. 

At last they were all on board, and the order 
was given to shove off. No time was lost in 
doing this, as the Rhode Island was by this 
time a mass of flames in her forepart, and it 
seemed impossible that she could float much 
longer. 

“Do you anticipate being picked up shortly, 
captain?” asked the boys’ friend of the com- 
mander of the Rhode Island . 

“Why, I don’t expect that we’ll have to drift 
about very long,” was the reply. “You see, the 
Sound is well traveled, and some ship must have 
seen the flare of the fire.” 

It was bitterly cold on the storm-swept waters 
of the Sound, but the boys checked any tendency 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


65 


they might have felt to complain by thinking of 
the plight of the women and children in the 
other boats. 

It is doubtful as the newspapers at the time 
pointed out, that there would have been no fatal- 
ities attendant on the wreck of the Rhode Island, 
if but a little less than half an hour after they 
had cast adrift from the ill-fated steamer, the 
Kentucky , of the Joy Line, had not hove in 
sight. By this time the Rhode Island had 
burned to the water’s edge, and sank with a noisy 
roar. 

The Kentucky bore down with all speed on the 
drifting boatloads of half-frozen men and women, 
and within an hour every one of the passengers 
had been picked up and given warm food and 
drink and attention. 

As the Kentucky, having performed her rescue 
work, pursued her way to New York, the boys 
mingled with the excited crowd of the saved that 
thronged her lighted saloon. 

While they walked about, overhearing inter- 
esting scraps of conversation relating to the res- 
cues of several of the passengers, they were 
startled by a sudden cry in a woman’s voice : 

“There he is! There he is, the coward!” 


66 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


There was a rush to the part of the saloon 
from whence the cry had proceeded. Every one 
was naturally anxious to ascertain what could 
have caused it. The boys were among the curi- 
ous persons who joined the throng. 

They saw a slight, pale-faced woman pointing 
indignantly to a tall youth who was slinking away 
through the crowd, trying evidently to conceal 
himself from the woman’s scorn. 

“What is the matter, madam ?” somebody asked 
the excited woman. 

“Why, I was in the first rush for the stairway/’ 
explained the woman, “before those brave young 

men there ” It was the boys’ turn to try to 

slink away. “Before those brave young men 
there kept back the cowardly fellows who were 
trying to trample past us. That man yonder, 
who has just slunk away, dealt me this blow in 
the face,” she pointed to a livid weal on her cheek, 
“and knocked me down.” 

A roar of indignation went up as she related 
the craven conduct of the youth the boys had 
observed slink off. Some of the more excitable 
passengers shouted that they wanted to organize 
a party to find him and deal him out summary 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


67 


punishment. Cooler counsel prevailed, however, 
and the rest of the night was passed in as com- 
fortable a manner as was possible on the over- 
crowded ship. 

When the Kentucky arrived at her dock on the 
East River, below the Brooklyn Bridge, she was 
met by big crowds, among whom were many 
reporters, the wireless stations along the 
Sound having been notified by the Kentucky of 
the disaster that had overtaken the Rhode 
Island. 

The boys, laughingly turning aside the assidu- 
ous young men of the press, were making their 
way ashore, when Here suddenly caught hold of 
Ned’s arm. 

“Look there!” he exclaimed. 

Ned looked, and saw Hank Harkins standing 
in the midst of a throng of reporters, to whom 
he was evidently giving a “big story.” 

“I took the woman in my arms,” the boys heard 
him say, as they paused, “and made my way to 
the upper deck with her.” 

“You saved her?” asked a young reporter, 
holding a long pencil poised above a very large 
new notebook. 


68 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“Yes, I saved her, and then ” Hank was 

continuing, when his jaw suddenly dropped, and 
he shook as if he was about to have a fit. 

Then, without another word to the amazed re- 
porters, he shouldered his way through their 
ranks and dashed off down the gangplank in the 
direction of the land. 

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Here. “I'll remember 
Hank’s look when he met our eyes as long as I 
live. He looked like a dying duck in a thunder- 
storm !” 

“I guess we headed off his thrilling narrative, 
all right,” commented Ned, echoing Here’s merri- 
ment. 

“And for a good reason, too,” went on Here. 
“I recognized Hank as he slunk away from that 
woman last night. He was the coward who 
struck her and disgraced his uniform.” 

“I’m glad his overcoat covered it,” rejoined 
Ned. 

At this juncture one of the reporters, who had 
noticed that both the lads wore Uncle Sam’s uni- 
forms, hurried up to them. 

“Can you tell us what was the matter with 
that fellow?” he demanded. “He was just in the 
middle of giving us a good story, when he sud- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE C9 

denly hurried oft* as if he had been shot. Is he a 
reliable chap, do you know ?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t believe all he told you,” 
grinned Here, as the Dreadnought Boys hurried 
ashore, to cross New York and join their ship. 


70 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER VII. 

“we are: part of the: fle:et.” 

r After some little difficulty the boys ascertained 
that the Manhattan lay up the North River, off 
the foot of Seventy-second Street and Riverside 
Drive. They could go to Seventy-second Street 
in a subway express, they were informed, and 
then walk across to the boat landing, where they 
would be almost sure to find* a launch from the 
big Dreadnought waiting to take off the shore- 
leave men. 

“Say!” gasped Here, as the two, having de- 

I scended into the “tube” and seated themselves in 
the lighted car, were whirled northward through 
pitch darkness toward their destination, “how 
far does this hole in the ground go ?” 

“Almost as far as Yonkers, I guess,” replied 
Ned; “or so Pve heard. Don't you like it?” 

I “Not much,” rejoined Here; “it's like trying 
to talk in a boiler factory.” 

The two boys had their suitcases tightly 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


71 


clutched between their knees, but nevertheless, 
when they reached the Grand Central station, the 
inrush of passengers, tumbling and pushing like 
mad to get seats, swept the lads’ possessions be- 
fore them as if the two pieces of baggage had 
been chaff in a high wind. 

“Hey ! come back with those gripsacks !” yelled 
Here indignantly, seizing the arm of a puny- 
looking lad who was stumbling forward over the 
red-headed lad’s particular possession. “Haven’t 
you any manners ?” 

The town-bred lad turned a sharp, ferret-eyed 
face on the young sailor. 

“Say, greenie, where do you come from, 
Painted Post or far Cohoes 'where the wind 
flower blows’? Just keep an eye on your own 
junk, or else hire an express wagon.” 

The indignant Here stooped to rescue his suit- 
case, and by the time he raised a red and angry 
face, the sharp-faced lad had gone. 

“Good thing he did get out of the way, or I’d 
have fetched him a clip on the ear!” grumbled 
Here, as he resumed his seat by Ned, who had 
by this time retrieved his property also. 

“No use losing your temper,” counseled Ned; 
“just keep cool. Hullo, there is an old lady and 


72 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


a younger one standing up over there. The old 
one looks feeble. I’m going to give them these 
seats. Come on and get up.” 

“All right,” muttered Here, “but I don’t see 
any one else doing so. See, all the men are seated 
and the women all seem to be standing up. 
What’s the use of being different to the others? 
We’ll only get stared at.” 

“All the more reason that we should be polite. 
The first duty of a sailor is to be kind and cour- 
teous to those weaker than himself,” rejoined Ned 
in an undertone, as the boys rose to their feet. 

With a courteous bow, Ned approached the 
ladies and motioned behind him to where he sup- 
posed two seats were vacant. 

“Will you avail yourself of our places, 
madam?” he said, addressing the older lady and 
removing his navy cap. 

Here, with an awkward grin, also uncovered 
his red thatch and made a sweeping motion be- 
hind him with his big hand. 

“Thank you very much, sir,” rejoined the eld- 
erly lady, “my daughter and myself would be 
very glad to accept your kindness, but others 
seem already to have availed themselves of it.” 

“What’s that?” cried Ned, wheeling, with a red 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


73 


face, and clapping his eyes on the seats they had 
just vacated. 

Sure enough, as the elderly lady had said, they 
were occupied. 

Two stout, red- faced men, with well-rounded 
stomachs and fingers covered with diamonds, 
lolled at their ease in the just vacated seats, read- 
ing their papers. They had slipped into the places 
while the boys were requesting the two ladies to 
take them. 

“Well, what do you know about that?” sput- 
tered Here indignantly. “They just sneaked into 
those seats like skunks into a wood pile.” 

“TheyTl come out of them a lot more easily,” 
breathed Ned grimly, as he took in the situation. 

Bending forward, he addressed the interlopers 
courteously enough, while those around who had 
witnessed the scene looked on curiously. It is 
not often that a subway passenger has the cour- 
age to resent any slight, however marked. From 
the compression of Ned’s lips and the determined 
flash in his eyes, however, it was evident that he 
had no intention of allowing the two beefy news- 
paper readers to enjoy their stolen seats undis- 
turbed. 

“I beg your pardon,” said Ned. “Perhaps you 


74 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


are not aware that my friend and I vacated those 
seats to allow these ladies to be seated.” 

One of the red-faced ones, slightly older, it 
seemed, than the other, looked up with a bovine 
stare in his heavily rimmed eyes. 

He stared at the Dreadnought Boys much as if 
they had been some strange visitors from another 
planet. 

“1 guess you don’t know much about Noo 
Yawk,” he said in a sneering tone, “or you’d have 
known that in the Subway it’s 'first come, first 
served.’ ” 

“Is that so?” inquired Ned, keeping down his 
anger, while Here was dancing about in the nar- 
row space he could find in the aisle of the crowded 
car. The red-headed lad was biting his nails and 
scratching his head in a manner that boded a 
storm as surely as black clouds portend thunder. 

“That being the case,” Ned went on in a cool 
voice, “it’s about time that the Subway learned a 
few manners. We gave those seats up for those 
two ladies, and not for you. Are you going to 
vacate them ?” 

“Aw, run along and roll your hoop !” sneered 
the younger newspaper reader, with an affecta- 


ON BATTLE PKACTICE 


75 


tion of great languor. “You drunken sailors 
make me tired.” 

A brown hand shot out as the words left his 
lips, and the beefy one found himself propelled 
by the shoulder into the center of the car faster 
than he had had occasion to move for a long time. 

At the same instant Here, to his huge delight, 
perceived the signal for action and sailed in on 
his man. In another second the two beefy ones, 
dazed by the suddenness of it all, stood side by 
side in the center of the car, while Ned courteous- 
ly aided the two ladies to the seats from which 
the interlopers had been so suddenly wrenched. 

“This is an outrage!” bellowed the red-faced 
men in concert, as they found their voices. “Such 
a thing has never happened before.” 

“That's a pity,” observed Ned contemptuously, 
while the delighted Here whispered in a stage 
undertone : 

“Mine came out like a soft, white worm out of 
a hickory nut.” 

“Conductor! conductor!” howled the man to 
whom Ned had given such a rough and ready les- 
son in manners, “come here and do your duty. 
We've been assaulted.” 


76 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


The conductor pushed his way through the 
crowded aisle, assuming an air of great impor- 
tance. 

“What’s all this ? What’s all this ?” he shouted. 

“These two rowdy sailors deprived us of our 
seats,” sputtered one of the red-faced men. 

“Did you fellows do what he says?” demanded 
the conductor importantly. 

“Sure they did. They pulled the gentlemen 
right out of them,” piped up a voice in the back- 
ground of the crowd — that of the ferret-faced 
youth. 

“Gentlemen!” snorted Here. “We’d call ’em 
hogs up our way !” 

“We got up to give our seats to those two 
ladies, and are very sorry to have caused them 
this embarrassment,” volunteered Ned. “But to 
see these two overfed fellows slip into the seats 
before we had hardly risen from them got our 
dander riz, and we undertook to put them out.” 

“Conductor, you will call a special policeman at 
the next station,” shouted the man that Ned had 
hauled to his feet. “I’ll make a charge against 
these desperate ruffians. They need a lesson.” 

Ned and Here exchanged alarmed glances. 

It might ruin their naval careers if, on the eve 


ON BATTLE PKACTICE 


77 


of joining their ship, they were to undergo the 
disgrace of an arrest. 

“Better think it over, ,, advised the conductor, 
who seemed disposed to make peace, and as he 
slipped by the boys, to regain his platform as the 
train slackened speed, he whispered : 

“You’d best make a sneak, boys; that fellow 
is Dave Pulsifer, the big gun man, and the oth- 
er’s his brother. He’s got lots of influence, and 
he means to make trouble for you.” 

Little as either of the Dreadnought Boys rel- 
ished the idea of running away from trouble, yet 
the advice seemed good. They both knew enough 
of the law’s delays to realize that, in the event of 
their being arrested on the red-faced man’s 
charge, they would be liable to be held for some 
time before they could have chance of explaining 
the circumstances of the case to a magistrate. 

As the train rolled into the Seventy-second 
Street station, therefore, they adroitly slipped by 
their friend, the conductor, and, as soon as he 
opened the door, shot out onto the platform. 

The red-faced men, crying loudly for a special 
policeman, were in the act of following them, 
when — quite by accident, it seemed — the conduc- 
tor’s foot got in the way, and the first of the 


78 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

pair of worthies fell headlong over it, and his 
companion, who was pressing hard on his heels, 
piled on top of him. 

By the time they had extricated themselves, 
during which period the crowd of passengers be- 
hind them, who were also anxious to alight, went 
almost crazy at having to wait a few seconds, the 
two lads were far down the sidewalks of Seventy- 
second Street. After a few minutes' brisk walk 
they reached the snow-covered slopes of River- 
side Drive. 

“Pulsifer! I know that name," Ned mused, as 
they hurried along. “I have it!" he exclaimed 
suddenly. “He’s Dave Pulsifer, of Pulsifer 
Bros., the fellows who make guns in America and 
sell them to foreign governments." 

‘Til bet those two were the brothers, then," 
suggested Here. “They looked like two ugly 
pups of the same homely litter." 

The boys gave the matter little more thought, 
though had they realized how intimately the Pul- 
sifers were to be associated with their further 
career, they might have considered their en- 
counter more seriously. 

“Look, Here, look!" cried Ned, as they came in 
sight of the river. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


79 


From the slight eminence on which they 
stood, the boys commanded a magnificent spec- 
tacle. 

Up and down the majestic stream, as far as the 
eye could reach, the grim, slaty-hued forms of 
Uncle Sam’s sea bulldogs swung at anchor. 

From the funnels of some smoke was lazily 
floating, while others lay like sleeping monsters 
on the surface of the dark river. 

Looking northward, the boys saw only a maze 
of cage masts — looking not unlike narrow waste- 
paper baskets turned upside down — and great 
dark hulls. Here and there a gaily-colored bit of 
bunting, which as yet meant little to the boys, 
fluttered from a masthead or from the signal hal- 
liards. Between the ships and the shore con- 
stantly darted light gasolene boats, or swift 
launches with big gray hoods over them. 

“Just think, Here, we are a part of all that!” 
breathed Ned reverently almost, indicating the 
formidable array of fighting craft with a wave 
of his hand. 

“Gee ! I feel about as big as an ant,” whispered 
Here, even his irrepressible nature overawed at 
the sight. “How in the world are we — little, in- 
significant specks — ever going to distinguish our- 


80 THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 

selves in all that big array of fighting ships and 
fighting men?” 

“We must do our best, Here,” rejoined Ned 
simply. “And now let’s be getting down to that 
landing place. I think I see some man-o’-war 
launches landing there. Maybe we will be lucky 
enough to find one of the Manhattan's boats.” 

As they started down an inclined road which 
led through the park and across the railroad 
tracks at its foot, they were accosted by a hearty 
voice just astern of them. 

“Hullo, there, shipmates!” it hailed. “Where 
away?” 

The Dreadnought Boys wheeled, and found 
themselves facing an elderly man, somewhat in- 
clined to stoutness, but whose grizzled and 
weather-beaten face bore the true trademarks of 
an old man-o’-war Jack upon it. 

“Why, you’re from the Manhattan !” cried 
Ned, as his eyes fell on the other’s name band, 
on which the name of the new Dreadnought was 
embroidered in gilt thread. 

“Aye, aye, my hearties,” was the rejoinder in 
a voice cracked with much shouting in heavy 
weather in all climes, “and you are a pair of 
rookies — land-lubbers, eh ?” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


81 


“Well, I guess you might call us that,” re- 
sponded Ned, not best pleased at this free and 
easy mode of address, but judging it best to be 
as amiable as possible. “Can you tell us how to 
get aboard the Manhattan? We’ve just left the 
Naval Training School and are appointed to her.” 

“Get your rating?” 

“Sure — ordinary seamen.” 

“That’s good. Come on with me, boys, and 
I’ll put you aboard ship shape and comfortable. 
It’s a cold day when old Tom Marlin can’t look 
out for a pair of greenies.” 

Piloted by their companion, the two boys soon 
arrived at the landing place, which was already 
crowded with sailors whose shore leave had ex- 
pired. 

“Which is the Manhattan ?” asked Sam, gazing 
with eyes that were still awestruck at the immense 
vessels that lay out in the river and appeared 
several sizes too large for their mooring places. 

“Right yonder, Bricktop,” rejoined old Tom, 
pointing off to a vessel which, large as were the 
other battleships, seemed by her huge size almost 
to dwarf them. “That’s the old hooker. The 
last output of your old Uncle Sam. Right in the 
next berth to her is the Idaho.” 


82 


THE DEE ADN OUGHT BOYS 


"What’s that red flag, with a black ball in the 
center, floating from the Idaho's main?” inquired 
Ned, much interested. 

"That ? Oh, that’s the meat-ball !” laughed old 
Tom. 

"The meat-ball?” echoed the boys, much aston- 
ished. 

"A sort of dinner flag, I suppose ?” asked Here, 
who was beginning to feel hungry. 

"Not much, my lad,” laughed the old sailor. 
"That’s the gunnery pennant for the vessel mak- 
ing the best score at the targets. The Idaho won 
that off the Virginia capes on our last battle prac- 
tice cruise. All the fleet’s after it now, but if 
we have our way, the old Manhattan will be fly- 
ing it after we get through peppering the marks 
off Guantanamo.” 

Each of the Dreadnought Boys found himself 
making up his mind, as old Tom spoke, that if it 
depended on them, the Manhattan would be the 
battleship to fly the coveted "meat-ball” when 
next the fleet made port. 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


83 ; 


CHAPTER VIII. 

HERC TAKERS A COLD BATH. 

A few minutes after the boys’ arrival at the 
landing, a launch with a lead-covered hood was 
seen approaching, towing three large ship’s boats 
behind it. The latter were crowded with jackies 
coming ashore. 

A gilt “M.” on the bow of the launch pro- 
claimed it to be from the Manhattan , and Here 
made a dive for the float as the “steamer” puffed 
up to the landing stage. 

“Come on, Ned!” he cried. “Whoop! Here’s 
where we join the ship ! Bang ! Big guns ! Blow 
’em up! Hurray!” 

But to Here’s surprise, as he made for the in- 
clined runway leading to the float, he was met 
by the menacing muzzle of a rifle. 

The weapon was held by a marine — “soldier 
and sailor too” — behind whom stood the natty 
middie in charge of the float. 


84 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“Stand back!” ordered the marine sternly. 

Here regarded the leveled rifle with some ap- 
prehension and gave way a few steps to the rear. 

“Don't you know enough not to try to embark 
till the order is given?” asked Ned, as the young 
midshipman scowled at the red-headed youth as if 
the latter had committed some heinous crime. 

“Why, the boats are made to get into, aren't 
they?” protested Here. “And who is that fellow 
in the funny uniform, anyhow?” 

“That's a marine,” laughed Ned. “He's on 
sentry duty.” 

“Oh, so he's a marine, eh?” rejoined Here, re- 
garding the sentry with much disapproval. “One 
of those sea soldiers — a sort of half-and-half fel- 
low.” 

Further comment on Here's part was cut short 
by the outpouring of the laughing, shouting 
jackies who were coming ashore on leave. They 
poured up the narrow gangway in a seemingly 
never-ending stream. 

“There'll be no one left to man the ships,” 
gasped Here, as the ranks of light-hearted shore- 
leave men poured past. Some of them carried 
suitcases, and were evidently going ashore to bid 
a last good-by to their friends. Others, whose 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


85 


folks probably resided in distant cities, were go- 
ing ashore for a last look at New York. 

“Those fellows will all have to be on board by 
midnight,” explained old Tom to the boys. 
“They’re going to crowd all they can into the 
few hours they’ll have ashore.” 

“Then we are to sail soon?” inquired Ned, his 
heart beating high and his eyes sparkling. 

“Before eight bells to-morrow morning we’ll 
be in the Narrows,” rejoined the old bluejacket. 

“That’s the stuff!” cried Ned, gazing at the 
ranks of bronzed, healthy faces which were still 
passing by. 

“Want action, eh?” laughed old Tom. “Well, 
lads, you’ll get it before you are many hours 
older ; and remember, my lad, that it isn’t all fun 
aboard a man-o’-war, and always bear in mind 
one thing — do what you’re told without grum- 
bling. Tee-total abstinence, when it comes to 
making remarks about what you are told to do in 
Uncle Sam’s navy.” 

“Say, Ned,” whispered Here. 

“What?” asked Ned, still engrossed in the ani- 
mated scene before him, and in the formidable 
background formed by the motionless war ma- 
chines. 


86 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“Well, did you hear what he said?” 

“Yes, why?” 

“Oh, nothing; only it looks as if we had bitten 
off more than we could chew, that's all.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“That I didn't like that part about 'not grum- 
bling whatever we are told to do.' It looks as 
if we might have some pretty tough chores set 
us.” 

“I guess we shall have all sorts of chores,” 
laughed Ned, as he regarded Here's rueful face; 
“but we didn’t enlist to look pretty and pose be- 
comingly in our uniforms. We're in the United 
States navy for four years, and whatever hap- 
pens, we've got to stick to it.” 

The lads' conversation had been carried on in 
an undertone, but Ned had unconsciously raised 
his voice as he spoke the last words. 

“That's the talk, shipmate,” said old Tom, re- 
garding him approvingly. “I never heard a boy 
talking like that yet who didn't come out of the 
big end of the horn before he'd served out his 
enlistment. The navy's the finest place in the 
world for boys of your cut, but it's no place for 
shirkers.” 

The old man regarded Here as he spoke, and 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


87 


the carroty-headed boy’s eyes fell under the tar’s 
keen, half-humorous gaze. To tell the truth, Here 
was beginning to half regret that he had enlisted 
at all. The prospect of four years’ service at the 
hard tasks at which the old sailor had hinted did 
not best please him ; but Here knew better than to 
make any complaint to Ned. The other lad, how- 
ever, had noticed his companion’s downcast looks 
and rallied him on them. 

“Come, Here, cheer up !” he said heartily. 
“We’re like young bears — all our troubles before 
us ; but they’ll lick us into shape, never fear.” 

“Oh, crickey! there you go again,” groaned 
Here. 

“Go again — what?” demanded Ned, puzzled. 

“Why, talking about 'licking us.’ Do they still 
lick fellows in the navy, Mr. Tom?” 

“No, my lad; the cat-o’-nine-tails was abolished 
in Uncle Sam’s ships years ago,” responded the 
old man, with a twinkle; “but we’ve still got the 
brig.” 

“The brig — that’s a kind of a ship, isn’t it?” 
inquired Ned. 

“Not as I knows of,” grinned old Tom; “but 
teetotal abstinence is the word when it comes to 


88 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

the brig, my lads. I hope you’ll never form its 
acquaintance.” 

“Attention !” 

The young midshipman shouted the order. 

The Dreadnought Boys straightened up, as did 
all the other tars. The landing parties had by 
this time all dispersed and were straggling up the 
hill, playing all manner of tricks on each other, 
more like a lot of happy boys just out of school 
than anything else. 

“Now, what’s that young whipper-snapper go- 
ing to do?” whispered Here. 

“Hush!” rejoined Ned. “I expect we are go- 
ing to get an order.” 

He was right. 

Orders were given for the men to board the 
boats in a quiet, orderly manner. 

“Keep close by me,” cautioned old Tom, “and 
never mind the joshing you are going to get.” 

Ned had noticed for the past few minutes that 
the sailors assembled on the wharf had been eye- 
ing them curiously, and that some of them had 
been whispering together. 

“Why, what’s the trouble ?” asked Here. 

“I expect the boys will give you a bit of a haz- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


89 


ing,” replied old Tom. “But take it all in good 
part, and you’ll soon be shipmates with all of 
them.” 

The old sailor’s prophecy came true. 

The midshipman who had been on duty at the 
float was relieved by another of his rank, and the 
first then took his place in the “steamer” which 
was to tow the boats full of jackies. As he sat 
in the stern sheets of the power craft, he could 
not see readily what was going on in the boats, 
and perhaps made it a point not to be too ob- 
servant. 

Ned and Here found themselves in the second 
boat, and as they had become separated from old 
Tom in the rush to board the craft, they had now 
no mentor to advise them, and felt curiously alone 
among the laughing, joking bluejackets that 
crowded the boats to the gunwales. 

“I see the old man’s ordered his winter’s sup- 
ply of kindling!” came in a loud stage whisper 
from the boat fn which the two lads were seated. 

The “old man” always refers to the commander 
of a man-of-war, in the parlance of the jackies. 

“Say, Bill, your thatch is on fire !” laughed an- 
other. 

Poor Here felt his cheeks turn as red as his 


90 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


unlucky hair under the running fire of banter 
which, there was no room to doubt, was intended 
for him. 

“Might be a good thing to call fire stations/’ 
grinned another. “I don’t much like the idea of 
sailing on a battleship with so much combustible 
stuff aboard.” 

“Like being shipmates with a red-hot stove,” 
put in another before-the-mast humorist. 

“Keep cool, Here,” whispered Ned, who was 
beginning to dread an outburst on the part of his 
impulsive companion. 

Unfortunately his whisper was overheard, and 
a shout went up from those nearest the two boys. 

“That’s right ! ‘Keep cool, Here !’ ” they mim- 
icked. “Don’t get afire, mate, or we may have 
to duck you.” 

“I reckon he must have belonged to the village 
fire department,” put in another. 

“I’ll bet they practiced putting out fires on his 
head,” came another voice. 

It was more than flesh and blood could bear. 

Here arose angrily to his feet, and was begin- 
ning a speech full of hot resentment, when the 
boat, which was by this time under way, gave a 
sudden lurch. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


91 


Here had been unmindful of the fact that a 
fresh wind blowing up the North River kicks up 
quite a sea, and in a second he was sprawling on 
the bottom of the boat, with a perfect tempest of 
laughter ringing in his burning ears. 

But, as he fell, Here’s heavy form careened 
against a seaman who was standing upright, 
scanning the vessel they were approaching. 
Down crashed the two, with Here on top. When 
they rose the nose of the seaman who had fallen 
under Here’s bulky person was bloody, and his 
eyes inflamed with rage. 

“You hayseed-eating swab,” he growled, “look 
here — blood all over my blouse. Now I’ve got to 
clean it or get a call down.” 

“I’m very sorry,” said Here penitently, “I 
didn’t do it on purpose.” 

“You’re a liar, and I’ll trim you for it before 
long.” 

Here recollected Ned’s advice, and bottled his 
rage. In a cutting voice, however, he rejoined : 

“At the Training School they told us that most 
sailors were gentlemen. I guess they were dead 
wrong.” 

“Fire’s out!” yelled somebody; but as, by this 
time, they were almost alongside the towering, 


92 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


slate-colored sides of the Manhattan , a quick cry 
of “Hush !” ran through the boat, and the Dread- 
nought Boys, for the present, escaped further 
trials of their tempers. 

“Aren’t we going to board the ship?” asked 
Here, as the launch approached the Manhattan , 
which was swung up-stream, with the tide. 

“Of course,” replied Ned. 

Both lads spoke in an undertone, so as not to 
run the risk of incurring a rebuke or the bring- 
ing down of further teasing on their heads. 

“But there is a gangway hanging over the side 
right there,” objected Here, pointing to a sub- 
stantial stairway leading from the stern structure 
of the big war vessel to the water’s edge. 

“Why, you lubber,” laughed Ned, “that’s the 
officer’s landing place. We are not allowed to 
land on the starboard side. We jackies have to 
go round to the port side of the ship.” 

“Humph!” remarked Here, in whose mind a 
very distinct feeling that he should not like the 
navy was beginning to take shape. 

In a few minutes the launch drew up at the 
officer’s gangway, and the young midshipman 
leaped in an agile manner onto it. The launch 
then continued round the steep bow of the Man - 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


93 


hattan, which towered like a mighty cliff of gray 
steel above the boys’ heads. It steamed on till it 
arrived beneath a number of “Jacob’s ladders” 
dangling from booms projecting several feet out- 
ward from the vessel’s side. 

"How on earth do we get aboard?” said Here. 

"Climb up those ladders,” rejoined Ned. 

"What, those swinging things ?” 

"That’s right.” 

"What then?” 

"Then we run along those booms till we are 
on board the ship.” 

"No, thank you.” 

Here looked apprehensively at the swinging 
ladders up which the jackies from the first boat 
were already beginning to swarm like monkeys, 
nimbly scampering along the booms when they 
reached the top. They steadied themselves on the 
lofty perches by light hand-lines rigged for the 
purpose. 

"What do you mean? Surely you are not get- 
ting scared?” 

"No, not scared,” replied Here. "But what’s a 
fellow want to come into the navy for if he can 
make a living walking a tight rope?” 

"Come on, you two rookies !” shouted a voice at 


94 


THE DEEADNOUGHT BOYS 


this moment. “Let’s see how you can manage a 
Jacob’s ladder.” 

There was a taunting note in the words that 
made Ned wheel angrily. He saw facing him, 
with an ugly leer on his countenance, the hulking- 
looking man, whose arm stripes denoted that he 
was serving his second enlistment, with whom 
Here had already had the recorded passage-at- 
arms. Then and there Ned felt that this fellow 
and himself were not destined to make good ship- 
mates. He also determined, however, not to let 
any of the jackies see that there was an instant’s 
hesitation in his mind about taking the perilous- 
looking climb. 

“Come on, Here,” he cried, as he made a spring 
for the ladder. 

Its swaying end hung a good three feet above 
the boat, and as the river was fairly choppy, the 
craft, heavy as it was, bobbed about in a lively 
manner. The lad’s experience at the training 
school, however, had taught him not to mind this, 
and without an instant’s pause he made a jump 
for the contrivance, and a second later was climb- 
ing up it like a squirrel. 

“I guess I’ll wait and see after our baggage,” 
called Here after him. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


95 


“Your baggage will be sent up afterward by 
deep-sea express, bricktop !” yelled a derisive 
voice. “Come on, now, get up that ladder lively, 
and don’t keep us waiting.” 

Poor Here, with much inward perturbation, 
made a jump for the ladder, and, to his surprise, 
found that it was easier than he had expected to 
negotiate. He scrambled rapidly upward after 
Ned, who by this time was almost at the boom. 

Close behind Here came the sailor who had 
taunted the boys in the boat. His name was 
Ralph Kennell, otherwise known as “Kid” Ken- 
nell. He had quite a reputation in the fleet as a 
fighter and wrestler, and on the strength of his 
renown had allowed a naturally domineering dis- 
position to develop into that of a full-fledged 
bully. 

Kennell pressed close behind Here as the red- 
headed boy clambered as fast as he could toward 
the boom. 

“The sooner it’s over, the better,” thought poor 
Here to himself, as he made his best pace upward. 

But it was no part of Kennell’s plans that the 
Dreadnought Boys should make their first ap- 
pearance on board the Manhattan without some 
sort of an accident befalling them, and he did his 


96 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

best to “rattle” Here as he climbed close on his 
heels. 

Already Ned had gained the boom, and scam- 
pered neatly along it and alighted on the white 
deck of the first battleship he had ever boarded. 
He gazed anxiously over the rail at poor Here as 
he toiled upward. Ned’s quick eyes did not escape 
the fact that Kennell was “bullyragging” Here to 
the extent of his capacity in this direction, which 
was considerable. 

The cheeks of Here’s chum burned angrily as 
he gazed, but he was powerless to interfere. The 
officer of the deck, with his telescope tucked under 
his arm, was standing near by, and Ned knew it 
would be a gross infraction of navy discipline to 
shout the warning he longed to deliver to Here. 
Ned had, as soon as he reached the deck, turned 
toward the stern and saluted the flag, and then 
paid the same compliment to the officer, who had 
touched the rim of his cap in return. 

And now Here had scrambled up onto the 
boom, which was slightly flattened on the top and 
not really so very difficult of passage. He started 
along it, gripping the frail hand-line tightly. It 
is likely that, if he had been left alone, he would 
have gained the ship without disaster, but Kennell 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


97 


was close behind him, and as Here, with set face 
and white cheeks, reached the center of the nar- 
row “bridge,” the ship’s bully closed up on him. 

What happened then occurred so quickly that 
the jackies who watched it said afterward that 
all they saw was Here’s body shooting down- 
ward with a despairing cry, and a second later 
another flash, as his chum’s form dashed through 
the air and entered the water close by the place 
of Here’s disappearance with a loud splash. 

Instantly the startling cry of “Man over- 
board !” echoed from mouth to mouth along the 
decks of the Dreadnought 


98 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER IX. 

A NAVAL INITIATION. 

Both the Dreadnought Boys were good swim- 
mers. Even if they had not been drilled in this 
art at the training school, their experiences in 
the old swimming pool at home would have made 
them at home in the water. Ned had dived after 
his chum as a matter of impulse, more than any- 
thing else, and, a second after the two splashes 
had resounded, both boys appeared on the sur- 
face of the water. 

A few strokes brought them to the side of the 
ship, where they clung to the slight projection af- 
forded by an out-board seacock, till a ladder came 
snaking down to them. 

By this time the rail, which seemed to be ns 
high above them as the summit of a skyscraper, 
was lined with faces, and at the stern the officers 
who were on board were peering over the side of 
the quarterdeck. 


OIST BATTLE PRACTICE 


99 


Captain Dunham himself, summoned by his or- 
derly, came running from his cabin, as the two 
dripping youths arose from their immersion, and 
joined his officers on the stern. He had just come 
on board in his own launch. 

“Who are they, Scott ?” he asked of his execu- 
tive officer, as the boys once more ascended the 
side of the ship on the emergency ladder. 

“Two recruits, sir, from the training station, 
I believe, sir,” was the reply, with a salute. 

“Well, they are certainly taking a naval bap- 
tism,” laughed the captain, whose merriment was 
echoed by his officers, now that it was seen the 
boys were safe, “but how did it happen?” 

“I don’t know, sir. I was not forward at the 
time,” was the rejoinder. “The shore men were 
coming on board, I believe, and the red-headed 
young fellow fell from the boom. His compan- 
ion dived instantly after him. It was a plucky 
act, sir.” 

“Humph!” remarked the captain. “I suppose 
it was an accident, and we can take no official 
notice of it. By the way, Scott, those two young 
men, I perceive now, are the ones I spoke to you 
about as having behaved with such singular cour- 
age and cool-headedness when the Rhode Island 


100 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

burned. Keep an eye on them, for I think they 
have the makings of real sailors in them. ' 

“I shall, sir,” replied the executive officer, salut- 
ing, as the captain turned away with a return of 
the courtesy. 

If Ned and Here were wet and cold without, 
they were warm enough within as they gained 
the deck. Ned's eye had detected Kennell’s foot 
in the act of reaching out to trip his chum and 
cousin, and he felt within him an overpowering 
desire to seek the man out and demand an ex- 
planation. 

Fortunately, however, for himself, other mat- 
ters occupied his attention at that moment. 

Dripping wet as they were, the boys did not 
forget their carefully instilled training, and each 
came to attention and saluted as they faced the 
officer of the deck. 

“Who are you men?” demanded that dignitary, 
red tape not allowing him to comment on the ac- 
cident. 

“Recruits, s-s-sir, from Newport T-T-T-Train- 
ing School,” answered Ned respectfully, his teeth 
chattering. 

“Get on dry clothes and report to the master- 
at-arms. Messenger !” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 101 

A messenger slid to the officer’s side with a 
hand raised in salute. 

“Show these recruits to their quarters. Let 
them get on dry clothes and then conduct them to 
the master-at-arms.” 

As the boys’ suitcases had by this time been 
hoisted on board, they soon changed into dry uni- 
forms in the men’s quarters forward, and their 
conductor then beckoned them to follow him. 
The two boys, their eyes round with astonishment 
at the sights and scenes about them, followed 
without a word, and were led through labyrinths 
of steel-walled passages, down steel ladders with 
glistening steel hand rails, up more ladders, and 
through bulkhead doors made to open and close 
with ponderous machinery. The lower decks of 
the ship were lighted with hundreds of incan- 
descent bulbs, as, in a modern man-of-war, there 
are no portholes on the sides, owing to the thick- 
ness of the armorplate. The officers’ cabins are 
lighted by lozenges of glass let into the deck. 

“It’s like living in a fire-proof safe,” whis- 
pered Here. 

The boys noticed that, although they seemed 
to be in a steel-walled maze, that the air was 


102 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

fresh and cool, and they discovered afterward 
that large quantities of fresh ozone were distrib- 
uted into every part of the ship by electric blow- 
ers. For the present, however, they followed 
their guide in a sort of semi-stupefaction at the 
novelty of their surroundings. 

“Say, we must have walked a mile,” gasped 
Here, as their guide finally emerged into a nar- 
row passage seemingly in the stern of the vessel. 
He paused before a door hung with heavy cur- 
tains and knocked. 

“What is it?” demanded a voice from inside. 
“A voice as pleasant as an explosion of dyna- 
mite,” Here described it afterward. 

“Two recruits, sir,” was the reply. 

“Send them in.” 

The boys found themselves in the presence of 
the master-at-arms, a dignified and business-like 
officer. 

“Your papers?” he demanded, without further 
parley. 

“Here, sir,” answered both boys, producing 
their 'precious certificates from the training 
school. 

The master-at-arms glanced over them. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


103 


“You seem to have good records,” he re- 
marked, “but don’t presume on them. You have 
a lot to learn. Messenger !” 

The messenger sprang to attention and saluted, 
and the boys, not to be outdone in politeness, did 
likewise. 

“Sir!” 

“Take these two recruits to the ship’s writer, 
and have him enter them in the ship’s records.” 

Once more the threading of the metal labyrinth 
began, and the boys felt almost ready to drop as 
they were ushered into another cabin, where sat 
a man not unlike the master-at-arms in appear- 
ance, but who wore spectacles perched on his 
nose. 

He took the boys’ papers without a word and 
filed them away in a pigeonhole. He then pro- 
duced two varnished ditty boxes, with their keys, 
which he handed to the boys. 

“These are your ditty boxes,” he remarked, 
handing over the caskets, which were about a 
foot and a half square, neatly varnished and fin- 
ished, and each of which bore a number. 

“You are to keep your valuables, stationery 
and knicknacks of any kind in these,” he said. 
“Be careful of them and look after them well.” 


104 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

“What about our money, sir?” asked Ned. 

“You can place that in the ship’s savings bank 
if you wish. It gives four per cent. Or, if you 
prefer, you can deposit it with the ship’s pay- 
master, and draw on it as you require. If you 
are transferred to another ship, it will be trans- 
ferred for you.” 

“I think the savings bank would be best,” said 
Ned, looking at Here. 

“Same here,” replied the farmboy; “gran’pa 
used to say, 'put your money in hogs,’ but I guess 
we couldn’t do that aboard ship, so it’s the sav- 
ings banks for me, too.” 

“Very well; you may leave your money with 
me and I will give you a passbook. You see, we 
do these things much as they are done ashore.” 

“I see,” nodded Ned as he took his passbook, 
and Here did the same, “what do we do now, 
sir?” 

“You will now be conducted to the boatswain’s 
mate, who is a sort of foster-parent to young re- 
cruits, and from him you will get the numbers 
of your hammocks and be assigned to a place at 
mess. He will also outline your duties to you. 

“Messenger !” 

“Sir!” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


105 


Once more the messenger came to salute, and 
stiffened in the attitude of attention, and the boys 
did the same. 

“Conduct these recruits to the chief boat- 
swain's mate/’ 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Off again,” whispered Here, as the messen- 
ger once more darted off with the boys in tow. 


106 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER X. 

NED HOLDS HIS COUNSEL. 

The chief boatswain’s mate was a far more 
awe-inspiring officer, in the boys’ eyes, than any 
they had so far met. They both knew enough 
of the navy to realize that he and his subordin- 
ates were the class of petty officer with whom 
they would come most in contact during their 
early period of enlistment. 

This dignitary on the Manhattan was a fierce- 
looking personage, but the boys were to learn 
that, as the sailors say, his “bark was worse than 
his bite.” 

“Hum, recruits,” he said, as he looked the two 
boys over. 

“He certainly is giving us a sizing-up,” whis- 
pered Here. 

The ears of the boatswain’s mate were sharper 
than the boys had imagined. 

“Yes, I am sizing you up,” he said with em- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 107 

phasis. “I’m thinking that you look like pretty 
good material.” 

“We mean to do our best, sir,” rejoined Ned. 

“That’s right. That sort of ambition will 
carry you far. But are you not the two boys who 
fell overboard a short time ago?” 

“I fell, and he jumped after me,” corrected 
Here. 

“How did it happen? An accident, wasn’t it?” 

“Not exactly an accident,” rejoined Ned. 

“What then? You mean it was done on pur- 
pose ?” 

“I’m afraid so,” was the quiet reply. 

“Who did it?” 

“We would prefer not to say now, sir,” replied 
Ned in the same repressed tone. 

“You mean you intend to attend to the matter 
in your own way?” 

“Something like that,” admitted Ned. 

The officer looked sharply at him. 

“It is my duty to warn you, my lad, that all 
such matters should be confided to your superior 
officer, and you should abide by his advice. How- 
ever, unless you commit some breach of disci- 
pline, I have no concern in the affair. I must tell 
you, however, that I heard from some of the men 


108 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


that Kennell had something to do with it. Is he 
the man you suspect of causing the trouble ?” 

“I had rather not say,” rejoined Ned quietly. 

“Very well, as you wish it; only recollect what 
I have told you. Now, follow me, and we will 
look over your quarters. Of course, you are fa- 
miliar with hammock-slinging, and all that apper- 
tains to it?” 

Here rubbed his head with a grin. 

“I’ve got some bumps here yet that serve to re- 
mind me of my first efforts to climb into one.” 

“Answer me 'yes’ or ‘no/ please; do not try 
to say anything more.” 

“I was just explaining,” muttered Here, not 
heeding Ned's warning look. 

They were soon assigned two places, side by 
side, in which they might sling their hammocks. 
The space devoted to the jackies' sleeping quar- 
ters was well forward under the superstructure 
and lighted by electric lights. It was well venti- 
lated, and aisles of steel pillars ran in every direc- 
tion. From these the hammocks were slung. 

“I will now show you something of the ship, 
so that you may be familiar with your floating 
home,” said the boatswain's mate; “follow 


OJST BATTLE PRACTICE 


109 


“I wish he'd show us some supper/’ whispered 
Here. “I'm about as empty as a dry well.” 

“Never mind,” rejoined Ned; “we shall soon 
be summoned to eat, I expect.” 

The boatswain’s mate took them through much 
the same maze of steel-walled passages and heavy 
doors as had the messenger. After descending 
three decks and traversing the stern of the ship, 
they were shown the mighty tiller and the me- 
chanical apparatus connecting with the wheel- 
house, where the steam-stearing gear was in- 
stalled. Then they were hurried along forward. 
Not, however, before the officer had shown them 
the emergency steam-steering gear, far below the 
water-line, which could be used in case a shot dis- 
abled the guiding apparatus above decks. 

Forward they were conducted up steel steps 
onto the gun deck, and thence to a passage under 
the bridge and chart room, from which they em- 
erged onto the edge of a sort of steel “well,” 
sunk immediately below the center of the 
bridge. 

“There are the fire-controls,” said the officer, 
pointing down into the “well” at a lot of shape- 
less apparatus swathed in heavy, waterproof 
cloth. “We keep the range-finders and other ap- 


110 THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 

paratus covered while we are in port or in a damp 
climate.” 

“The fire-controls?” echoed Here, with half a 
suspicion that his unfortunate head was coming 
in as the subject of more joking. But it was not, 
as the next remark of the boatswain’s mate 
showed him. 

“The gunnery officer is seated in that well, 
with two orderlies, at battle practice, or in actual 
warfare,” he explained. “He is screened there 
from the enemy’s fire; but, through narrow slits 
cut in the steel, he sees what is going on about 
him, and telegraphs the range and directs the 
fire. His commands are transmitted to the gun- 
control room electrically, and thence to the tur- 
rets.” 

The boys listened with deep interest. 

“We will now go below again and look at the 
gun-control room,” said the boatswain’s mate, as 
he trotted off once more. 

“He must be made of the same material as the 
ship,” groaned Here, as the two boys followed 
him. 

As before, they traversed innumerable pas- 
sages, passing several officers on the way, whom 
they, of course, saluted. In each case the salu- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 111 

tation was returned by a brief touch of the offi- 
cer’s fingers to his cap rim. 

“If you’d ever get lost here, you could wander 
round for a week without finding your way out,” 
grumbled Here. 

“Not much chance,” laughed their guide ; 
“every part of the ship, huge as it is, is visited 
at least once a day by some officer. Not a corner 
is allowed to escape notice.” 

Suddenly the boatswain’s mate plunged down- 
ward through a very narrow square opening, 
which seemed almost too small to admit his 
body. 

The boys followed, though for a moment they 
had been quite startled at his sudden disappear- 
ance. 

“This is a part of the ship no stout man can 
ever hope to penetrate,” said their guide, as he 
clambered down a steel ladder, which the open- 
ing, through which he had crawled, led to. 

“I should say not,” muttered Here, squeezing 
through. “It doesn’t speak very much for navy 
food,” he added to himself, “if all the sailors can 
squeeze through such a place as this.” 

At the bottom of the ladder they found them- 
selves in a small chamber, looking not unlike the 


112 


THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 


central office of a telephone exchange. It was 
quite hot, owing to its proximity to the boiler 
room. 

Everywhere wires ran, with head-pieces, like 
those worn by operators, dangling from them. 
Small bells were affixed to the steel bulkhead, 
and a system of tiny signal lights was arranged 
above them. 

“This is the place from which the fire is direc- 
ted after the commands have been sent from the 
fire-control well, ,, explained their guide. “As 
you see, it works like a telephone exchange. In 
action, an officer and four men are stationed here 
to attend to the signals.” 

“Are we under the water-line now?” asked 
Ned breathlessly. 

“We are now twenty feet below the surface of 
the river,” replied the boatswain's mate. 

“Then, if the ship was sunk in action, the men 
down here would not stand a chance to escape ?” 
queried Ned. 

“No; they probably would not know that the 
ship had been struck till they saw the water come 
pouring in on them.” 

“Say, Ned,” whispered Here. 

“What?” 


01ST BATTLE PBACTICE 


113 


“There’s one job in the navy that I don’t 
want.” 

“What is that?” 

“To be stationed down here.” 

“No danger of that,” laughed Ned. “Only the 
most expert of the crew — men to whom gunnery 
is a science, are assigned to these posts.” 

A visit to the wireless room, which was set 
snugly in the superstructure between the two for- 
ward and the two after funnels, completed the 
lads’ tour of their new home. 

“Now, I have done all I can for you,” re- 
marked the boatswain’s mate, as he parted from 
the boys on the forward deck, “the rest lies in 
your own hands. The only part of the ship you 
have not seen is the magazines. As there are 
two and one-half million dollars’ worth of explo- 
sives stored there, we naturally keep them pri- 
vate.” 

Lounging about with the other tars on the for- 
ward deck the boys found their friend, Tom Mar- 
lin. He had already heard about the accident 
which had resulted in Here’s involuntary immer- 
sion and Ned’s voluntary ducking. 

“I’m glad that you boys kept your heads,” he 
said, after the boys had recounted their experi- 


114 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

ences and suspicions to him; “the 'old man’ is 
very much averse to fighting; although on some 
of the ships of the fleet they allow the men to 
meet under proper conditions and fight out their 
grievances with boxing gloves/’ 

“We have no intention of letting Kennell go 
unpunished, though,” promised Ned indignantly. 
“Why, for all he knew, he might have drowned 
Here here.” 

“You’d better steer clear of Kennell,” warned 
another sailor, who had come up with three com- 
panions at this moment; “he’s a dangerous man, 
and could r eat both you kids for breakfast, with- 
out sauce or salt.” 

“I’m not so sure of that,” breathed Ned trucu- 
lently, smarting under the sense of the mean trick 
that had been played on his friend; “and, per- 
haps, before this cruise is over, he may have a 
chance to try.” 

This conversation took place on the forward 
deck, in the short lounging interval allowed the 
sailors between afternoon “setting-up” drill, and 
the supper bugle, which is sounded at 5 130. 

As Ned voiced his intention of squaring things 
up at some future time, the brisk notes of the 
summons to the evening meal cut short further 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


115 


talk, and as the chiming of “three bells” mingled 
with the bugle’s notes, the jackies descended on 
the mess-tables like a flight of locusts on a wheat- 
field. They were served with cold roast ham, 
potato salad, boiled potatoes, canned peaches, 
bread and butter, and steaming tea. 

“Ah,” sighed Here, as his nostrils dilated un- 
der the odors of appetizing food, and his eye fell 
on the long rows of tables, spread with plates, 
knives and forks, with a cup at each man’s elbow, 
“this is a lot more interesting to me right now 
than all the underground subways in the navy.” 


116 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XI. 

BREAKING TWO ROOKIES. 

A fresh breeze, tossing up the foamy white 
caps ; fleecy clouds, scurrying by overhead ; and, 
on the sparkling sea, spread in a long formidable 
line, the North Atlantic squadron, steaming "in 
column,” bound for the battle practice at Guan- 
tanamo. Between each of the huge battle bull- 
dogs, glistening wetly with the tossed-up spray, 
a perfect distance was maintained — as accurately 
as if the space between each ship in the long line 
were fixed permanently; yet the squadron was 
reeling off twenty knots an hour on its way to 
tropic waters. 

On the fore-deck of the Manhattan, which, 
leviathan as she was, pitched heavily in the huge 
Atlantic swells, stood the two Dreadnought Boys ; 
but a big change was manifest in the ruddy- 
headed Here’s smiling features, since he sat down 
to supper the night before the squadron sailed. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 117 

Ned regarded his chum with a smile at the 
other’s woe-begone look. 

'‘Cheer up, Here,” he said. “It will soon be 
over, you know. Sea-sickness does not last long.” 

“A good thing it doesn’t,” groaned the unfor- 
tunate Here, “or I’d be finished with earthly 
woes by this time. O-oh-oh-oh !” 

The exclamation was forced from Ned’s 
cousin as the Manhattan gave an extra heavy 
pitch which sent the salt foam flying in a wet 
cloud over the port-bow. 

It was the second morning following the fleet’s 
departure from New York. The night before, 
after a day of agony, poor Here had been hoisted 
into his hammock by three sailors, and now, in 
the early dawn, he was undergoing once more all 
the torments of the day previous. Ned, on the 
contrary, seemed unaffected by the motion of the 
ship in the heavy sea-way, and had escaped 
the toll old Neptune demands from most neo- 
phytes. 

“Here, you boys,” bluffly snapped a boatswain’s 
mate, approaching the boys ; “what are you doing 
here?” It was not the same petty officer who 
had shown them about the ship. 

“Beg pardon, sir,” said Ned, respectfully sa- 


118 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


luting, “but we haven’t received any assignments 
yet.” 

“Well, lay hold of a swab and get to work.” 

“A swab, sir?” 

“It sounds what I feel like,” groaned Here. 

“Yes, a deck-mop, if you like that term better. 
No idlers allowed here.” 

“My friend here, is pretty sea-sick, sir,” ven- 
tured Ned respectfully. 

“Never mind; a little work will do him good — 
work and a good breakfast ” 

“Breakfast oh-o-o-oh!” from the luckless Here. 

“Come, hammocks have been piped down for 
five minutes. Have you stowed yours?” de- 
manded the boatswain’s mate sharply. 

“Yes, sir,” replied Ned, who had performed 
this office both for himself and for his friend. 

“Well, you will turn to with the first deck divi- 
sion and scrub decks.” 

“Very well, sir,” said Ned, starting forward 
to where he saw a number of jackies, armed with 
swabs, preparing to begin the first daily task on 
a man-o’-war. Scrubbing and painting and 
cleaning brasswork are a jackie’s chief tasks at 
sea. 

.“But hold on a minute — your boots.” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


119 


The boatswain's mate glared downward disap- 
provingly. 

“Have I lost those, too ?" moaned Here. 

“Take off your boots, at once. Footgear is not 
allowed while scrubbing decks." 

“Very well, sir. Come, Here, we must go for- 
ward." 

Followed by Here, Ned made his way to the 
fore superstructure, where swabs were being- 
served out. After a little inquiry, he found his 
“station," and guided the half-dazed Here into 
his place in the scrubbing line. Soon they were 
at work on one of those tasks which may 
seem menial, but which every boy who enters 
Uncle Sam's navy must learn to do without com- 
plaint. 

“I didn't leave home to scrub floors," muttered 
Here indignantly, his disgust getting even the 
better of his sea-sickness; “is this a sailor'3 
chore?" 

“Never mind, Here; look at it from this angle 
— in scrubbing decks you are helping to keep 
your five-million-dollar home clean." 

“I'd give five million dollars to be ashore," 
groaned Here, a fresh paroxysm sweeping over 
him. 


120 THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 

Suddenly the sharp cry of “Attention !” rang 
along the decks. 

The scrubbing squads straightened up stiffly, 
and came to the position of salute. 

It was the captain, making an early tour of 
inspection with the executive officer of the ship, 
Lieutenant-Commander Scott. Behind him came 
his orderly and a messenger. Altogether, it was 
quite an impressive little parade. 

Ned thought that the captain, whom he had 
last seen quelling the onrush of the crazed stok- 
ers, glanced at him with a flash of recognition. 
He knew enough, however, not to betray by the 
flicker of an eyelash that he had ever seen his 
commander before. 

As for Here, he was fortunately, perhaps, past 
paying attention to anything. 

“Tell the men to carry on,” Ned heard the cap- 
tain say to the boatswain’s mate in charge of his 
scrubbing squad, as the officers passed by. 

“Carry on,” thought Ned; “what on earth is 
that?” 

“Come; carry on!” said the boatswain’s mate 
sharply to Ned, as the boy still stood at attention, 
having received no order to resume work. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


121 


Ned looked at him inquiringly, and the man 
saw the lad was puzzled. 

“Carry on. Go on with your work,” he said, 
and Ned at once understood the hitherto mysteri- 
ous order. 

Breakfast followed the swabbing-down work, 
and Here, who felt somewhat revived, managed 
to swallow a few mouthfuls. Not enough, how- 
ever, to completely restore him, and a shipmate, 
seeing his despondent condition, advised him to 
visit Pills. atif* 

“What is that?” asked the astonished boy. 

“It isn't a 'what,' it's a 'he',” explained the 
man ; “Pills is the doctor.” 

“Well, if there's a doctor on board, I certainly 
want to see him,” agreed Here; and, at seven- 
thirty, together with several other men, suffer- 
ing from real or imaginary ills, he sought out 
the ship's doctor, who gave him some remedies, 
which soon made the boy feel all right. In fact, 
an hour later Here and Ned found themselves 
consigned to a painting squad, working, side by 
side, on the big forward turret which housed the 
twelve-inch guns. 

Beside them was another blue-jacket and old 


122 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

Tom, their acquaintance of their first day of- 
naval life. 

Ned felt a thrill, as, in his bosn’s chair, he dan- 
gled on the side of the turret close to the glisten- 
ing barrels of the huge guns, which could hurl 
a ponderous weight of metal, an 870-pound pro- 
jectile, almost ten miles. He wondered if he 
would ever attain his present ambition, which 
was to serve on the crew in the big forward tur- 
ret, the one he was then engaged in painting a 
dull-slate color. 

Conversation is allowed among blue-jackets at 
work if they are discreet enough not to make 
their tones too loud, and relapse into silence when 
a petty or a commissioned officer happens along. 
Thus Ned and the convalescent Here found time 
to ask many questions concerning the ship. Nat- 
urally, the talk drifted, as they worked, to the 
turret on which they were toiling. 

“If I tell you boys a secret can you keep it — tee- 
total abstinence ?” asked old Tom suddenly. 

“You had better not confide in us, if you don’t 
think so,” rejoined Ned somewhat sharply. 

“Oh, no harm meant,” hastily put in Tom; 
“and at that, it isn’t so much of a secret. It’s 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


123 


been hinted at in the papers, and maybe you may 
have heard of it. Have you?” 

“Why, how can we tell unless we know what 
it is?” questioned Ned, with a laugh. 

“Well,” confided old Tom seriously, and low- 
ering his voice — though by this time the third 
man on their side of the turret was painting at 
some distance from them — “well, inside this here 
turret is one of the new Varian guns. They are 
the invention of Henry Varian, of Boston ” 

“The inventor of that new explosive?” 
breathed Ned. 

“Exactly; Chaosite, they call it. Well, this here 
gun is specially built to handle this explosive, but 
it's never been tried yet ; and — here’s the secret — 
Varian himself is to join us in Cuba and direct 
the firing tests of it. While the papers have got 
hold of the fact that we have the gun on board, 
none of them know that it is to be tested on this 
battle practice, or that Varian himself is to meet 
us at Guantanamo.” 

“How do you come to know all this?” asked 
Ned. 

“Why, I’m the stroke-oar of the captain's boat 
— when he uses it — which isn’t often, nowadays,” 


124 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


lamented old Tom, who hadn't much use for 
“steamers” and gasoline launches. “Well, when 
we was at Key West, I rowed him ashore — helped 
to, that is — and I overheard him talking to this 
fellow Varian himself about the gun. I wasn't 
eavesdropping, you understand; just overheard.” 

“That’s mighty interesting,” mused Ned; “of 
course, I have read of the government's experi- 
ments with Chaosite. It is supposed to be, I be- 
lieve, the most powerful of all explosives yet dis- 
covered. It's great to think that we are on board 
the first ship to try it under actual battle condi- 
tions.” 

“I wish we could get on the crew of that gun,” 
put in Here. “I’d like mighty well to see just how 
that Chewusite acts when it’s touched off. Regu- 
lar Fourth of July, I guess. Pop-boom-fizz! Up 
in the air ! — stars ! — bang — down comes the 
stick!” 

As Here spoke, in his newly recovered vitality, 
he swung his pot of slate-colored paint about, to 
illustrate his meaning. As ill-luck would have it, 
the wire handle was not oversecurely fastened, 
and off flew the receptacle of the pigment with 
which the turret was being covered. 

“Oh, crickey! Now I've done it!” groaned 


ON E vTTLE PRACTICE 


125 


Here, as he felt the bucket slip from the handle 
and go hurtling down. 

The next moment Ned echoed his chum's ex- 
clamation of dismay, as he saw what had oc- 
curred. 

To make matters worse, at that very moment 
the redoubtable Kennell was passing beneath the 
turret, on his way aft to clean some brasswork, 
and had turned his face upward, preparatory to 
flinging some jeering remark at the two Dread- 
nought Boys. 

The contents of the unlucky pot of paint fell 
full on his sneering features, blotting them out 
in a sticky cloud of gray pigment ! 


126 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XII. 

A BULLY GETS A LESSON. 

For a moment the big form of the paint-cov- 
ered bully swayed about blindly and helplessly. 
Then, dashing the paint from his eyes, he emitted 
a roar like that of a stricken bull. 

Jackies at work near at hand, who had seen 
the accident, gazed at Here, who had by this time 
slid to the deck — in a sort of pitying way. They 
knew Kennell too well to suppose that he would 
let such an occurrence — even if it were an acci- 
dent — pass by unrevenged. 

“I’m sorry, Kennell; it was an accident,” ex- 
claimed Here, one hand extended, and the other 
gathering up the loose end of his work-blouse; 
“here, let me wipe some of it off with this.” 

He stepped forward, with the intention of do- 
ing all he could to repair the damage he had un- 
wittingly caused, but Kennell, with an angry 
sweep of his arm, waved him furiously back. To 


ON BATTLE PKACTICE 


127 


increase the bully’s rage, some of the men near 
at hand began to laugh. 

“My! what a lovely complexion the kid has 
when he’s all rouged up !” laughed one. 

“Kennell’s got his battle-paint on,” jeered an- 
other. 

It was easy to see that none of the men particu- 
larly regretted the accident to the bully, whom 
none of them had any particular reason to love. 

From their suspended bosn’s chairs, Ned and 
old Tom watched the scene with some apprehen- 
sions. Ned was a shrewd enough reader of char- 
acter to know that the affair could hardly end by 
Kennell’s peaceably accepting Here’s apology; 
while old Tom knew Kennell’s nature too well to 
entertain any doubt that the young seaman was 
in for a terrible trouncing. 

“You — you — red-headed clod-hopper!” grated 
Kennell savagely through his mask of “war- 
paint,” when he found his voice. Somehow, he 
looked so ludicrous, showing his teeth, like a 
snarling dog, through his panoply of pigment, 
that Here, to save his life, could not have re- 
strained himself from bursting into a hearty 
laugh. 

“I — pardon me, Kennell; oh, ha! ha! ha! ha! 


128 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

I — I'm awfully sorry. Please accept my apologies. 
It was, ha, ha, ha, ha! an accident — really it 
was. Won't you forgive me?" 

Here held out his hand once more. As he did 
so, Ned shouted a sharp warning from above. 

It came too late. 

Kennell’ s mighty arm shot out with the speed 
of a piston-rod, and its impact, full on Here's 
laughing face, carried the boy crashing against 
the side rails. 

“Take that, you pup, as a starter!" hissed Ken- 
nell, “and I’m not through with you yet, either. 
I'll keep after you two whelps till you slink out 
of the service." 

Here, half-stunned, clambered to his feet, and 
stood swaying for a moment, as if he were about 
to keel over altogether. He rapidly pulled him- 
self together, however, and fixed a furious gaze 
on Kennell, who stood glaring at him with an 
upcurled lip and narrowed eyes. 

Echoing the bellow that Kennell had let forth 
when the paint obscured his vision temporarily, 
Here threw himself into a boxing attitude, and 
sprang straight for his opponent. It was the on- 
slaught of a wild-cat on a bull. 

“Take that, for tripping me overboard, you 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


129 


big coward/’ he snapped, as he aimed a terrific 
uppercut at the ship’s bully. 

The unexpected blow caught Kennell with the 
force of a young battering-ram. Full on the 
point of his blunt jaw it landed, and raised him 
a good foot off the deck. He came crashing down 
like a felled tree, in a heap at the foot of the tur- 
ret’s barbette. 

He lay there, seemingly senseless, while the 
ship plunged onward, and a thin stream of red 
began to trickle from his head and spread over 
the newly whitened deck. 

Here gazed down at his handiwork in conster- 
nation. 

What if he had killed the man? Kennell lay 
there so still that it seemed reasonable to suppose 
that his life might be extinct. The stream of 
blood, too, alarmed Here, who had struck out 
more on impulse than with any well-defined idea 
of knocking out the ponderous “Kid Kennell.” 

“Kennell, Kennell !” he breathed, bending over 
the prostrate man. “Speak! Are you badly 
hurt?” 

“Leave him alone, matey,” counseled old Tom, 
who, with Ned, had slid down from the turret- 
side. “He’s a long way from dead. He’s just 


130 


THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 


asleep for a few minutes, and only got what was 
coming to him.” 

“Oh, is he all right?” questioned Here, much 
relieved. 

“Sure; it would take a harder punch than 
you’ve got to hurt ‘Kid’ Kennell seriously,” put 
in a sailor at Here’s elbow; “but Heaven help 
you when the kid gets about again.” 

“Why?” asked Here simply. 

“Why? Oh, Lord !” groaned the sailors mirth- 
fully, “why, red-head, he’ll pound that ruby-col- 
ored head of yours into the middle of next Fourth 
of July or pink calves’-foot jelly.” 

“Carry on, men! Carry on!” exclaimed a 
boatswain’s mate, coming round the barbette at 
this moment. 

“Why, what’s all this ?” he exclaimed the next 
minute, as his eyes lighted on the recumbent and 
paint-smeared figure of Kennell, and the flushed 
faces and anxious eyes of Ned and Here. 

“It’s Kennell, sir; he’s knocked out,” volun- 
teered one of the jackies. 

“So I see. Who has so grossly violated the 
rules of the service as to have been guilty of 
fighting?” 

All eyes rested on poor Here, who, coloring up 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 131 

to the roots of his colorful thatch, said, in a low 
voice: 

“I have, sir.” 

Though the lad’s tone was low, his voice never 
quavered. 

“What you — Recruit Taylor — fighting?” quer- 
ied the amazed boatswain’s mate, who was no 
stranger to the record of the redoubtable 
Kennell, and inwardly marveled at what sort of 
fighting machine Here must be to have laid him 
low. 

“Yes, sir; I’m sorry to say that I have,” replied 
Here, looking his superior straight in the eyes. 

At this juncture the officer of the deck has- 
tened up. From his station amidships he had 
noted the sudden cessation of all activity for- 
ward. He had at once hastened to see what had 
occurred to stop the monotonous clock-work of 
the routine duties aboard. 

“What’s all this, Stowe?” he shot out sharply 
at the boatswain’s mate, as his eyes took in the 
scene. 

All the jackies had come to attention as the 
officer hurried up, but at his sharp command 
of: 

“Carry on, men !” the work had gone forward, 


132 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


apparently as before, although, as my read- 
ers will judge, the men had one eye on 
their work and another on the scene that 
now transpired. 

“Why, as well as I can make out, sir, this 
young recruit here, sir — Taylor, sir — has been 
fighting with Kennell, here, sir, and ” 

“Seemingly knocked him out,” snapped the of- 
ficer, as Kennell began to stir. He sat up, blink- 
ing his eyes like a man who has been summoned 
back from another world. 

As the bully rose, the officer — a young man 
with a good-natured face — suddenly coughed vio- 
lently and turned to the rail. His shoulders 
heaved, and his handkerchief was stuffed up to 
his face. 

The boatswain's mate gazed at him apprehen- 
sively. He thought his superior had become sud- 
denly ill. As a matter of fact, the sight of Ken- 
nell's puzzled countenance, blinking through the 
paint and vital fluid, with which his features were 
bedaubed, had been too much for the officer's 
gravity, and he had been compelled to turn away 
or suffer a severe loss of his dignity by bursting 
into a roar of laughter. 

Finally he recovered himself, and turned, with 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


133 


a still quivering lip, which he bit incessantly, 
toward the battered Kennell and the others. 

“What explanation have you to make of this ?” 
he demanded of Here, in as unshaken and stern 
a voice as if he had never suffered the loss of an 
ounce of his gravity. 

Poor Here saluted and shuffled uneasily from 
one foot to another. 

“Oh, I know he’ll make a mess of it,” thought 
Ned to himself. “I wish the regulations would 
allow me to speak up for him.” 

“Come, sir ; what have you to say ?” reiterated 
the officer, as the sorry-looking Kennell got slowly 
to his feet. He glowered menacingly at Here, as 
recollection of what had occurred began to come 
back to him. 

“Why, sir, that young cur ” Kennell be- 

gan. 

“Silence, sir!” roared the officer; “I’ll attend 
to you when your turn comes.” 

“I was painting the, side of the turret,” began 
Here ; “and, quite by accident, the handle of my 
painting pail came off. Unfortunately, this man 
happened to be passing below and the stuff doused 
him, just like a sheep at dipping time, and ” 

“Attention, sir! Never mind your compari- 


134 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


sons. Proceed. You have not yet accounted for 
the extraordinary condition of this man’s coun- 
tenance.” 

“Why, sir, that’s the paint,” sputtered Here, as 
if astonished at the officer’s simplicity. 

“Exactly. I understand. You say that such 
a thing was an accident. Possibly, it was. But 
how do you account for the fact that the man 
Kennell was lying insensible at the foot of the 
turret, with that cut over his eye?” 

“I did that, too, sir,” admitted Here ruefully. 

“What, you cut his eye like that?” 

“No, sir; I guess that he must have done that 
when he fell. I just gave him a sleep wallop ” 

“Attention, sir! Use more respectful and in- 
telligible language,” said the lieutenant, suddenly 
becoming much more interested in some object 
on the far horizon ; so much so that he had once 
more to turn his back on the Dreadnought Boys, 
the boatswain’s mate and the open-mouthed jack- 
ies. In a minute he faced round again, as grave 
as before. 

“I hope you are not sea-sick, sir ?” began Here 
solicitously, for he had observed the officer’s 
handkerchief at his mouth. The lad could not 
imagine that a scene so serious to him could ap- 


0 N BATTLE PRACTICE 


135 


pear ludicrous to any one else. “If you are, Pills, 
the doctor, I mean ” 

“Silence, sir ! You need disciplining. You ad- 
mit, then, that you hit this man?” 

“Yes, sir, but he ” 

“Silence! Answer ‘yes’ or 'no/ please.” 

“Well, 'yes’,” admitted Here. 

“Why in the great horn-spoon doesn’t he ask 
him if Kennell hit him first?” groaned Ned, re- 
garding the examination from a prudent distance. 

“This case calls for a full investigation,” 
snapped the officer; “fighting aboard a man-o'- 
war is one of the most serious offenses an en- 
listed man can commit. Messenger !” 

“Sir!” 

' “Get the master-at-arms, and request him to 
come forward and report to me at once.” 

“Aye, aye, sir!” 

The messenger sped aft on his errand, while 
a dreadful silence ensued, which even the irre- 
pressible Here had not the courage to break. 

Evidently something dire was about to happen 
to him. 


136 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XIII. 

HERC LEARNS WHAT “THE BRIG” IS. 

In a few minutes the messenger returned with 
the master-at-arms, who saluted the officer of the 
deck, who in turn gravely saluted him. Here, 
feeling that he should do something, saluted each 
of them in turn, concluding his respectful mo- 
tions with a deep bow. 

Neither officer, however, paid any more atten- 
tion to the lad than if he had been carved out of 
wood. 

“Master-at-arms !” began the officer. 

“Yes, sir,” responded the master-at-arms, 
bringing his heels together with a sharp click. 

“There has been a flagrant breach of discipline 
here, which it is my duty to report to the captain 
at once. You will place this man, Ordinary Sea- 
man Taylor, under restraint, and arraign him at 
the mast at one o'clock with the other prisoners.” 

“Yes, sir,” nodded the master-at-arms, edging 
up to the dismayed Here. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


137 


“Kennell, if you wish to prefer a complaint 
against this man Taylor, you may,” went on the 
officer. 

“I do, sir, certainly,” said Kennell earnestly, 
through the paint that smothered his face; “but 
first, sir, I should like to clean this mess off, sir.” 

“You will be relieved from duty while you do. 
Carry on, men.” 

The officer of the deck faced about and walked 
aft; no doubt to acquaint the captain with the 
details of the occurrences on the forward deck. 

“Come, wake up,” said the master-at-arms to 
Here, who was in a semi-stupor at the horrifying 
idea that he was under arrest. “Come with me.” 

“What ! I’m to be locked up ?” gasped Here. 

“Yes, in the brig.” 

In an instant the recollection of the boys’ con- 
versation with old Tom on the day they joined 
the ship flashed into Here’s mind. So then “the 
brig” that the old tar had been so reluctant to 
talk about, was the place in which they locked 
up malefactors and disgracers of the service, of 
whom it seemed he was one. Poor Here felt ready 
to drop with shame and humiliation as — under 
the eyes of the hundreds of jackies going about 
their various tasks — he was marched aft by the 


138 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

master-at-arms. There was only one drop of re- 
lief in his bitter cup. It came when Ned pressed 
forward, at the risk of being severely reproved. 

“Never mind, Here, old fellow,” he breathed. 
“I know you were in the right, and Fll see that 
Kennell gets what’s coming to him, if it’s the last 
thing I do.” 

“Come, sir! carry on,” snapped the master-at- 
arms, who had pretended not to notice the first 
part of this conversation, being a really kind- 
hearted man, although bound by discipline, just 
as is every one else in the navy ; “you must know 
it is a breach of discipline to talk to prisoners.” 

Prisoners ! 

Poor Here groaned aloud. 

“Come, come,” comforted the master-at-arms, 
“it isn’t as bad as all that. I am confident that 
you can clear yourself. Besides, it is your first 
offense, and you are a recruit, so perhaps the 
old man will be easy on you.” 

“It isn’t that, so much as it’s the disgrace of 
being arrested like this,” burst out Here. 

“Oh, well, you shouldn’t go to fighting, then,” 
remarked the master-at-arms, pulling open a 
steel-studded door and thrusting Here before him 
into a narrow passage, lighted by electric bulbs, 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 139 

down one side of which was fitted a row of steel- 
barred cells. 

“We’re a bit crowded/’ he remarked, “so I 
can’t give you a cell to yourself. When a ship 
puts to sea out of a port there are generally a 
lot of men to be disciplined. Those who have 
overstayed their leave, and so forth. Therefore, 
I’ll have to put you in here.” 

He opened a door as he spoke, and pushed Here 
into a cell in which two other men were already 
seated on a narrow bench which ran along one 
side. 

“You’ll get a full ration at eight bells, for 
which you are lucky,” remarked the master-at- 
arms; “the others get only bread and water.” 

Clang ! 

The steel door swung to, and Here, for the first 
time in his life, was a prisoner. 

It did not make the experience any the less bit- 
ter to know that he was a captive and disgraced 
through no fault of his own, unless it .had been 
from his exuberant swinging of the paint-pot in 
the enthusiasm of his newly-acquired “sea-legs.” 

The Dreadnought Boy, despite his unpleasant 
situation, was naturally inquisitive enough to 
gaze about him on his surroundings. The cell it- 


140 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


self was a steel-walled apartment about twelve 
feet square with no other furnishings than the 
narrow bench, which also was of steel. It was 
lighted by an electric bulb, set deep in the ceiling 
and barred off, so that it could not be tampered 
with by a meddlesome prisoner. The walls of 
this place were painted white. The floors red. 
It was insufferably hot and stuffy, and the songs 
of a group of roisterers confined in another cell, 
which broke forth as soon as the master-at-arms 
departed, did not tend to make the environment 
any pleasanter. 

“So this is the brig,” mused Here, “well, they 
can have it for all I want with it. It's not much 
better than the hog-pen at home.” 

One of Here’s fellow prisoners, who had been 
sitting sullenly on the bench, now arose and be- 
gan to pace back and forth. His companion did 
likewise. They had not paid the slightest atten- 
tion to Here hitherto, but now one of them spoke. 

“What you in for, kid?” 

“I guess you’ll have to ask the master-at- 
arms,” rejoined Here, who was not prepossessed 
by his questioner’s appearance. He was a heavy- 
set, low-browed man, with a pair of black eye- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


141 


brows that almost met in the center of his fore- 
head, giving him a sinister aspect. His compan- 
ion was slight, and long-legged, with a delicate — 
almost an effeminate — cast of features. 

“Oh, well, if you don’t want to talk you don’t 
have to,” growled the heavy-browed man. “Say, 
Carl,” he went on, turning to his companion, 
“this is a nice, sociable cellmate they’ve given us, 
isn’t it?” 

“You attend to your own affairs, Silas,” 
snarled the other, who did not seem to be any 
more amiable than his heavy-browed friend ; 
“leave the kid alone. We’ve got trouble enough 
of our own, haven’t we?” 

“Hum, yes; but overstaying leave isn’t such a 
very serious matter, and think of the reward 
that’s ahead in store for us. Only this cruise, 
and ” 

“Hush!” broke in the one addressed as Carl, 
with an angry intonation; “you must be a fool 
to talk like that in front of the kid,” he went on 
in a low undertone. 

“Pshaw!” snarled the other in the same low 
voice, however. “He’s just a country Reuben, 
with the hayseed still in his hair and the smell of 


142 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


the hog-pen on him — like that one we gambled 
with in New York — Hank Harkins — wasn’t that 
his name? — on the old Tdy’.” 

“Just the same, it’s well to be prudent,” coun- 
seled the other, and fell once more to his pacing 
of the cell. 

As for Here, to whom all this, including the 
reference to Hank, had been, as Carl had guessed, 
so much Greek, he laid down at full length on the 
bench. As he had not had more than a few 
winks of sleep during his seasick night, he soon 
dropped off into peaceful slumber, despite his un- 
comfortable couch and serious position. 

How long he slept, he did not know, but he 
woke with a start, and was about to open his 
eyes, when he suddenly closed them again and 
feigned deep slumber. 

He had heard something being discussed by 
the two men with whom he shared the cell that 
set his pulse to stirring and his heart to beating 
a wild tattoo. 

The boy realized that the safety of one of the 
United States’ greatest naval secrets lay, for the 
time being, in his hands. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


143 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A PL,OT OV£RHKARD. 

“Say, didn’t that boy move?” — the prisoner 
that Here knew as Carl put the question. 

The lad heard rapid footsteps pace across the 
narrow cell, and felt the hot breath of one of 
the men in his ear as he lay still and feigned 
slumber as best he could, although his heart beat 
so wildly he was sure its agitation must have 
been audible to the two men. 

Apparently, however, his ruse succeeded. The 
men were satisfied that he was wrapped in slum- 
ber, for, with a growl, the one that had bent over 
him said: 

“He’s off; sound as a top.” 

“A good thing,” rejoined the other, “both for 
us and for him.” 

It was Carl who spoke, and the tone in which 
his soft, refined voice uttered the words left the 
Dreadnought Boy no room to doubt that if the 
two plotters had imagined he had overheard them 


144 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


they would have done something exceedingly 
unpleasant to prevent their secret being betrayed. 
As it was, however, they seemed to feel no uneasi- 
ness and resumed their conversation. 

“The yacht will be waiting at Boco del Toros, 
about ten miles above Guantanamo Bay,” contin- 
ued the black-browed man. Here recognized his 
bearlike growl. “All we have to do when we get 
the plans is to steal aboard and sail. Her captain 
will be prepared for us, and will take us on board 
when we give the signal.” 

“Then all that we will have to do will be to 
waylay Varian,” said Carl in his soft way, which, 
mild as it seemed, yet impressed Here with the 
same sense of chill as if the cold muzzle of a 
revolver had been pressed to the nape of his 
neck. 

“That’s it. An easy way of earning ten thou- 
sand dollars, eh?” 

“Yes, if — if we don’t get caught.” 

“No fear of that,” laughed the black-browed 
man; “at any rate, if we are it will be our own 
fault. But I see no chance of a slip-up. Varian 
sails from New York to Havana on a vessel of 
the Ward line. He will put up at a hotel at 
Guantanamo. We are to meet the others ashore, 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


145 


and if all goes well we'll finish our business in a 
few hours. If not ” 

“Well, if not, we'll have to get what we're 
after from the captain himself, and that's going 
to be difficult and perhaps fatal for him." 

“Well, I've taken longer chances than that for 
less money," laughed Carl's companion. “Lucky 
thing they didn't look back into our records, or 
they’d have found out a thing or two which would 
have made us very undesirable subjects for Uncle 
Sam's navy. Likewise Kennell, I guess. I'd 'a' 
hard time to get him to join, but a golden bait 
will catch the shyest fish." 

Carl gave a high-pitched chuckle, almost a 
giggle, but the two worthies instantly lapsed into 
what seemed sullen silence as the key of their 
jailer grated in the lock of the bulkhead door. 

As for Here, he judged that his best and safest 
course was to emit a loud snore, which he did. 
So well was his slumber simulated that the mas- 
ter-at-arms who had entered, accompanied by two 
orderlies carrying the prisoners' food, exclaimed 
in an astonished tone : 

“That youngster must be an older hand than 
I thought him. He's actually sleeping like a 
baby." 


146 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Here pretended to feel very sleepy when the 
master-at-arms shook his shoulder and indicated 
a smoking dinner of cornbeef and cabbage, 
flanked by bread and butter and a big mug of 
coffee. 

“Here, wake up and eat this,” commanded the 
officer ; “you ought to be alive to your luck. The 
other prisoners only get full rations once a day. 
They have to dine on bread and water.” 

The boy stretched his arms as if he was only 
partially awake, and, after what he judged to be 
a proper interval of feigning sleepiness, fell to 
on his hot dinner. Empty as he was, the food 
heartened him up wonderfully, despite the scowls 
that his two companions leveled at him as he ate. 
When the master-at-arms arrived, just before 
two bells — one o’clock — to take his prisoners to 
the tribunal at the mast, Sam felt better prepared 
to face his ordeal than he had a few hours pre- 
viously. 

The captain’s “court” convened just forward 
of the stern awnings, and a little abaft the tow- 
ering “cage” aftermast. 

The “old man,” in full uniform, with a sword 
at his side, Lieutenant-Commander Scott, and 
several of the officers stood in a little group chat- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


147 


ting, as the prisoners were brought aft. All 
wore side arms and what the jackie calls “quar- 
ter-deck faces” — meaning that they looked as 
stern and uncompromising as flint. 

“I guess I’ll get life,” muttered Here to him- 
self, as he heard the stern doom, of stoppage of 
five days’ pay and ten days in the brig, with- 
out future shore leave, pronounced on three 
sailors who had been found guilty of coming 
on duty in an intoxicated condition, at New 
York. 

“You men are to understand that the United 
States navy has no place for men who wilfully 
indulge in such practices,” the captain had said, 
with blighting emphasis, as the men trembled be- 
fore him. “Clean men, clean-living men is the 
material the government wants, and such as you 
are better out of the service. The navy is better 
off without you if you go on as you have been 
doing.” 

Here felt his cheeks blanch as pale as had the 
countenances of the guilty ones as he heard this 
stern speech. 

Next came the turns of the two men who had 
shared the same cell with him. 

“Carl Schultz, ordinary seaman, and Silas 


148 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Wagg, ordinary seaman,” read the captain's yeo- 
man, who acted as a sort of “clerk of the court.” 

“What's the offense?” asked the captain. 

“Overstaying their shore leave four hours, 
sir,” was the rejoinder. 

“Any previous bad record?” 

“No, sir. I have found none,” volunteered 
the master-at-arms. 

“Men,” said the captain, in the same icy tones 
as he had used toward the three intemperate pris- 
oners, “you are guilty of a serious offense. In 
the navy regularity should be a watchword with 
all of us. It may seem to you that to overstay 
your leave by four hours was but a small matter, 
and that you yourselves would not be missed 
among eight hundred or more men. Yet every 
one of the crew and each of your forty-two offi- 
cers has a niche of his own to fill. We are all 
cogs in the same great machine, servants working 
for the good of the same government. 

“If any one of us is derelict in his duty, he is 
not only derelict to himself and to his officers, but 
to his country and his flag. Always bear that in 
mind. As this is your first offense, and your offi- 
cers tell me you are hard-working men and good 
seamen, I shall dismiss you with a reprimand. 


03T BATTLE PRACTICE 


149 


But mind,” he added sternly, “if either of you is 
brought before me again I shall not prove so len- 
ient. Carry on.” 

With grateful faces, the two men hastened off 
forward. 

How Here longed to tell of what he had heard 
in the cell ! But he dreaded to make himself ap- 
pear ridiculous by reciting what might seem an 
improbable story, cooked up by one who already 
rested under a cloud, so he said nothing. 

In fact, he was not allowed long to entertain 
these thoughts, for hardly had the two worthies 
who had shared his cell made the best of their 
way forward, before the yeoman, in a voice that 
affected Here much as a sudden plunge into ice 
water would have done, shouted out : 

“Ordinary Seaman Taylor !” 

The story of Here’s knocking out the bully had 
already spread through the ship — a place where 
gossip travels as swiftly as through a small vil- 
lage — and the officers and the few men whose 
duties brought them near to the “court room” — 
eyed Here curiously as he stepped forward, with 
head bared, holding himself as erect as possible. 
He saluted as he clicked his heels together with 
painstaking precision. His heart beat fast and 


150 


THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 


thick, however, and there was an anxious look in 
his eyes as he faced his inquisitors. 

Here was a brave boy, full of pluck and grit; 
but the ordeal before him might have caused a 
stouter heart than his to quail. 

“Master-at-arms, what do you know about this 
case?” asked the captain, as Here stood rigid, 
twisting his cap in his big hands. 

The master-at-arms rapidly rehearsed what he 
knew of the affair, and then the captain turned 
to his executive officer. 

“Mr. Scott, there is a complainant in this case, 
is there not?” 

“Yes, sir,” was the reply. “Mr. Andrews, 
who had the deck this morning, so reported to 
me. 

“Able Seaman and Gunner Ralph Kennell is 
the man, sir,” said Lieutenant Andrews, step- 
ping forward. 

“Very good. Where is this man Kennell?” 

“Here, sir,” said Kennell, stepping forward in 
his turn. 

His face shone with soap, which yet had not 
been able wholly to eradicate the traces of slate- 
colored paint with which he had been shower- 
bathed. Over his left eye a big bit of plaster 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


151 


showed where “Pills” had patched him up. Be- 
neath the same eye a dark bruise was beginning 
to spread. His jaw was also woefully swollen 
where Here had landed his effective blow. 

“Now, Kennell,” began the captain, who was 
perfectly aware of the bully’s record, and mar- 
velled as much as his officers how such a slim lad 
as Here could have inflicted such injuries on him ; 
“now, Kennell, tell us in as few words as you 
can what occurred this morning between you and 
Ordinary Seaman Taylor.” 

“Well, sir,” began Kennell sullenly, “I was 
making my way aft to clean brass work, sir, when 
this man here, sir, drops a pot of paint on my 
head, sir, out of pure malice, as I believe, sir.” 

“Never mind what you believe. What hap- 
pened then?” 

“Then, when I protested, sir,” went on Ken- 
nell, “he climbs down from the turret he was 
a-painting, sir, and strikes me.” 

“Where?” 

“Right by the forward twelve-inch turret, sir.” 

“You mean your eye, don’t you?” 

“Well, sir, he struck me all over, sir,” com- 
plained Kennell. 

“And you had done nothing to him ?” 


152 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“Nothing, sir.” 

“Very good. You may stand aside. Taylor, 
what have you to say to this story?” 

“Not much, sir, except that it is a fabrication,” 
said Here indignantly, his fear at the officers 
swallowed in his wrath at Kennell's lying tale. 
“It is true I dropped the paint on his head. That 
was accidental, however. So far as his injuries 
go, I believe that he got the cut over his eye when 
he fell against the turret. He hit it an awful 
whack, sir.” Here grinned broadly at the recol- 
lection. 

“No levity, please. You are to understand this 
is a serious matter. Who struck the first blow? ,y 

Here hesitated. It was no part of his ideas of 
what was right to tell tales on a fellow seaman, 
and yet Kennell had lied cruelly about him. Sud- 
denly his mind was made up. 

“I had rather not say, sir,” he said at length in 
a low tone. 

“What ! Are you aware that this is a confes- 
sion of guilt, or equivalent to it?” 

“Perhaps so, sir, but I cannot say,” repeated 
Here stubbornly. 

“Very well, then,” said the captain in his most 
dignified tones, “I shall have to inflict a heavier 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


153 


punishment on you than I would otherwise. You 
are one of the two recruits whose gallant conduct 
on the Rhode Island caught my favorable atten- 
tion. I am therefore doubly reluctant to punish 
you. But the discipline of the service must be 
upheld. Seemingly, you are screening some one. 
You must learn that your officers are to be obeyed, 
and also the regulations. No regulation is more 
mandatory than that forbidding fighting and un- 
seemly conduct on the ships of the United States 
Navy. I shall therefore sentence you to two days 
in the brig with prison rations. Master-at-arms ! ” 
“Sir!”' 

“Carry on!” 

The officer saluted, and a few minutes later 
poor Here was once more in his steel cell. This 
time he occupied it alone, however. 

“Well, two days is not such a very long time,” 
mused Here philosophically; “and I expected at 
least two months, by the way that captain talked 
to me. I’m in here now, but let that old ‘dog 
Kennel’ look out for me when I’m foot loose 
again !” 


154 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XV. 

ORDERED AET. 

"Mr. Scott,” said Captain Dunham, turning to 
his lieutenant-commander, "ask Mr. Andrews to 
step here a minute, will you?” 

"Yes, sir,” responded Mr. Scott, and a minute 
later Lieutenant Andrews respectfully saluted 
Commander Dunham. 

"Andrews, Pm not altogether comfortable 
about giving that lad two days in the brig. The 
fellow Kennell I have heard is a most uncon- 
scionable bully, and, moreover, I am favorably in- 
clined to both those lads. I saw their mettle well 
tested on the Rhode Island , as I told you gentle- 
men the other day. Have you heard any details 
of the matter which you could not relate officially 
at the inquiry?” 

"Yes, sir, I have,” said Mr. Andrews straight- 
forwardly. "I learned a short time ago, from a 
boatswain’s mate who arrived on the scene short- 
ly after Kennell had been knocked out, that young 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


155 


Taylor, instead of being the aggressor, had, as a 
matter of fact, been attacked by Kennell a few 
minutes after he had extended his hand and of- 
fered an apology for an unavoidable, if annoy- 
ing, accident.” 

“Hum, hum!” mused the captain; “then it 
seems that there has been a miscarriage of jus- 
tice here. But why, in the name of the old 
Harry, couldn’t the young fellow have acquainted 
me with the full details of the case.” 

“I suppose, sir, that he was unwilling to in- 
form on his shipmate. You know that ‘snitch- 
ers,’ as they call them forward, are not encour- 
aged in the navy.” 

“No, Andrews, no. But I hate to think I have 
done the lad an injustice — even if unwittingly.” 

“I should not worry about it, sir,” put in An- 
drews. “It will not hurt the youngster to get a 
sharp lesson in naval discipline which he won’t 
forget in a hurry.” 

“Perhaps you are right,” mused the captain; 
“but I should be unwilling to spoil what I am 
sure is a fine disposition by over-harshness. As 
for that man Kennell, I have been his commander 
on another ship of the fleet, the old Massachu- 
setts. I am sure he is a trouble maker, and I am 


156 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


going to have a sharp eye kept on him. If I can 
detect him attempting to stir up trouble among 
the men, I shall visit my wrath on him pretty 
sharply.” 

“And rightly, too, sir,” agreed Andrews. “So 
you have decided to let young Taylor serve out 
his sentence?” 

“I think so, yes — for one day, anyway,” re- 
joined the commander. “As you say, it will be 
a good lesson, though a sharp one. I intend, 
however, to put both those lads on a good detail 
as soon as Taylor is released. It will be by way 
of compensation for what I feel is a partial in- 
justice.” 

Thus it will be seen that, while naval officers 
outwardly have often to “ship a quarter-deck 
face” and deal out what may seem harsh meas- 
ures, yet they are, with few exceptions, kindly, 
humane men, with an adoration for their flag and 
country that amounts to fanaticism, and, more- 
over, a kindly feeling toward the men serving 
under them. It is somewhat hard, though, to 
administer the exact measure of justice among 
eight or nine hundred high-spirited, healthy 
young animals like the average American tar. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


157 


“Well, lad, the smoke lamp is lighted. Light 
up and forget your troubles.” 

Old Tom paused as he passed Ned during the 
rest hour, after the jackies' noonday dinner. 

“Thanks. I never smoke,” responded the boy, 
whose troubled face showed that he was still 
worrying over Here's disgrace. In fact, Ned 
took his companion's position to heart much more 
keenly than did Here himself, who, knowing in 
his own heart that he was not to blame, set to 
work to make the best of it. 

It was the day following Here's imprisonment, 
and already the squadron had passed into the 
Gulf Stream, and the warm air of the tropics was 
about the mighty fighting ships. 

That morning the flagship had signalled to the 
squadron that white uniforms were in order, and 
very trim and neat the jackies looked in their 
snowy garments, as they lounged about the decks. 
Some were smoking and chatting, some writing 
letters, and others playing checkers, chess or 
cards, or absorbed in some book in a quiet nook. 

As Ned, who was leaning over the rail, gazed 
downward at the foam flying past the vessel's 
side, he found never-failing amusement in watch- 
ing the great flocks of flying fish that fled shim- 


158 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

mering from the yellow patches of “gulf weed” 
as the Manhattan's mighty bow nosed into 
them. 

“For all the world like a covey of partridges 
scared up in the woods at home,” thought Ned 
to himself. 

“Ordinary Seaman Strong?” asked a sudden 
voice behind him. 

Ned turned swiftly, and saw the captain’s or- 
derly facing him. 

“Yes, I’m Strong,” he said. 

“Come with me,” directed the orderly. 

Ned had been long enough on a battleship now 
to obey without hesitation or question when an 
order was addressed to him. 

The lounging jackies regarded him with some 
interest as he passed among them. 

“The pal of the red-headed lad is going to get 
a wigging now.” 

“Two of them upon the carpet in two days. 
They won’t last long in the service.” 

These are samples of the comments that were 
bandied about as the boy passed along behind the 
orderly, somewhat troubled, in fact, in his own 
mind as to what could be the reason of the sud- 
den summons to the captain’s cabin. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


159 


Old Tom spoke up indignantly as he heard the 
remarks : 

“A whole lot of you young varmints will still 
be scrubbing decks, and cleaning brasswork, and 
doing your regular trick in the brig after shore 
leave, when them two young fellows is wearing 
chevrons !” he snapped. 

The old salt was a privileged character, and 
did and said pretty much as he liked among the 
men; but his remark aroused some resentment 
among those about him. 

“How about you, old Growler ?” asked a gruff 
voice. “How is it you never rose from the scrub 
stations ?” 

“ ’Cos I was a fool like you when I was young,” 
snarled old Tom, as the sailors exploded in a 
shout of laughter at the discomfiture of the ven- 
turesome spirit that had essayed to “bait” old 
Tom. 

“Better leave Tom alone, Ralph,” shouted one 
of the card players; “he’s too sharp for you.” 

“Yes, he presumes on his gray hairs to do as 
he likes,” snarled the other, who was none other 
than Kennell. “It’s a good thing for him he’s 
got a bald head.” 

“Well, I don’t need a pot of paint to cover it, 


160 


THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 


anyhow !” laughed old Tom, at which there was 
another tornado of laughter; and Kennell, with 
a black look on his face, rose to his feet and made 
his way to another spot, one where he was less 
likely to encounter such a sharp tongue as old 
Tom’s. 

“Confounded old fool !” he muttered to himself 
as he went, “I’d like to finish up him and those 
two kids at one stroke ! I’ll do it, too, if I get a 
chance.” 

In the meantime Ned, at the orderly’s heels, 
had traversed several of the memorable narrow, 
steel-lined corridors, and at last found himself 
in front of heavy green plush portieres, beyond 
which lay, as he guessed, that hallowed spot, the 
captain’s cabin. 

The orderly knocked softly at the polished ma- 
hogany door frame. 

“Ord’ly, sir,” he announced. 

And a minute later : 

“Ordinary Seaman Strong, sir.” 

“Send him in,” came the pleasant, mellow voice 
of the captain. 

Ned subdued an inclination to take to his heels, 
and entered, looking as calm as he could. 


ON BATTLE PKACTICE 161 

“A moment, Strong,” said the captain in a 
pleasant voice. “Fll be through here in a min- 
ute.” 

?Jed stood stiffly at attention and gazed about 
him out of the corners of his eyes while his com- 
mander wrote busily, dipping his pen from time 
to time in a massive silver ink-stand. The com- 
mander’s quarters, although on a fighting ship, 
were as luxuriously appointed as the library in 
any mansion ashore. The fittings were all dark 
mahogany, relieved, here and there, with maple- 
wood, on which the soft lights glowed and shone. 
As in the officers’ cabins, there was no porthole, 
the armor at this part of the ship precluding any 
such device. Thick glass, let into the quarter 
deck above, however, admitted light. 

“Ord’ly!” 

“Sir!” 

The orderly sprang into view, like a familiar 
spirit, from behind the curtain where he had been 
standing at attention. 

“Take these general orders to Mr. Scott!” 

“Yes, sir!” 

The galvanic orderly saluted and was off like 
a shot. 


162 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

“I wonder if that fellow is equipped with 
springs ?” mused Ned, “or if he is galvanized 
daily, or merely wound up by clockwork ?” 

“Well, Strong.” 

The captain was gazing at the boy quizzically. 

Ned saluted stiffly, and stood straighter than 
ever at attention, waiting for what was to come. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


163 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A BIT OF PROMOTION. 

“Strong,” began the captain, “I sent for you 
to ask you a few questions. As you know, I 
have taken some interest in you since I witnessed 
your courageous behavior aboard the Rhode 
Island ” 

Ned blushed hotly, but said nothing. The cap- 
tain's remark did not seem to call for a reply. 

"You have ambitions, and your friend Taylor 
has also, I presume." 

"Yes, sir," replied Ned; "we wish to advance 
ourselves in our chosen profession, sir." 

"I am going to give you a chance," was the 
rejoinder. "You are, of course, acquainted with 
the rudiments of gunnery ?" 

"Yes, sir. We were schooled in the elements 
of gun practice at Newport." 

"So I perceived by a perusal of your papers." 

This was news to Ned, who had not hitherto 
dreamed that the commander of a vessel like the 


164 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

Manhattan would have time to pay any attention 
to two mere ordinary seamen. In this, however, 
he was mistaken. The officers of the United 
States Navy are ever on the lookout for new 
material, and watch any promising youngsters 
with keen interest, giving them every opportun- 
ity to show what they can do. 

“I am going to put you and your friend Tay- 
lor on a gun crew. ,, 

“Oh, thank you, sir!” burst out Ned, his eyes 
almost popping out of his head, but preserving a 
cool exterior, nevertheless. 

“Wait a minute. I have not finished yet,” 
went on the captain, with a twinkle in his eye. 
“Your friend Taylor is er-er somewhat impulsive, 
I should imagine?” 

“Well, yes, sir; but he had plenty of provoca- 
tion for what he did the other day,” spoke up 
Ned boldly. He was delighted that a chance 
had come to tell the facts in the case which 
poor Here, in his embarrassment, had neglected 
doing. 

“So I understood. The man Kennell, I under- 
stand, attacked him. For this reason Taylor will 
be released to-day. But even so, he had his re- 
course in reporting the matter.” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


165 


“That was not all, sir,” broke out Ned. 

“Not all? What do you mean?” 

“That I saw the man Kennell deliberately trip 
Here — Seaman Taylor, I mean, sir — as he was 
walking the boom the day he boarded the Man- 
hattan” 

“You mean the day you dived over after him? 
It was pluckily done.” 

“Yes, sir. Kennell had been badgering him in 
the boat, and then deliberately tripped him.” 

“That chimes in with the reports I have heard 
about Kennell,” remarked the captain. “How- 
ever, that matter is past, and official action cannot 
now be taken. I have spoken to the gunnery 
officer, Lieutenant Timmons, about you two 
boys, and to-morrow you will be a part of the 
crew of the fifteen-inch guns in the forward tur- 
ret.” 

Ned’s heart was too full for utterance. He 
stammered his thanks, and obeying the captain’s 
curt nod of dismissal, hastened from the cabin, 
his head fairly buzzing over the good luck that 
had come to them. 

“If I am not mistaken,” thought the captain, 
as Ned left the cabin, “I have selected two good 
bits of material in those lads for Timmons. Yet 


166 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


the experiments with that Varian gun are going 
to be dangerous, and perhaps I was wrong to 
place those two boys in peril. However, the life 
of a sailor is made up of risk and danger, and 
there is no more danger with that gun than with 
any other piece of modern ordnance. It is only 
because it is untried that it seems more fraught 
with possible mishap/’ 

Had the captain possessed the gift of proph- 
ecy But what man or woman does ? If they 

did, perhaps many of the experiments which have 
proved of the biggest ultimate benefit to the world 
would never have been tried. 

Ned, his head fairly buzzing with his good 
fortune, hastened forward. He wished he could 
communicate with Here and cheer up that cap- 
tive by news of their good fortune. Musing thus, 
he had the misfortune, as he reached the fore 
deck, to collide with a man hastening in an oppo- 
site direction. 

He looked up with a quick word of apology, 
and found himself gazing full into the scowling 
features of the Dreadnought Boys’ arch enemy — 
Kennell ! 

“Out of my way, you young mucker!” glow- 
ered the man, with a look of hatred, “or I’ll maul 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 167 

you up as badly as I did that red-headed young 
cub” 

"You mean my friend, Here Taylor.” 

"I said ‘cub!’ ” 

"And I said friend !” 

Ned returned the man’s glare firmly. 

"I see I shall have to give you a good 
lesson, too, one of these days!” hissed Kennell 
evilly. 

Ned, fresh from the presence of the captain, 
proud of his promotion — for so he considered it, 
the twelve-inch turret being the "prize detail” of 
the ship — had no desire to get into a fistic argu- 
ment. He knew the captain was a stickler for 
discipline, for all his kind heart, and that with 
one of the Dreadnought Boys already undergoing 
punishment, although unjustly, it would be the 
worst thing that could happen for him to become 
embroiled with Kennell. 

He therefore regarded Kennell with a cold 
stare and said sharply: 

"Let me pass, please. I am in a hurry and 
have no time to waste.” 

Kennell planted his bulky form squarely in the 
Dreadnought Boy’s path. 

"You’ll pass when I get good and ready,” he 


168 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


grated out. “It’s time you boys learned a les- 
son or two, and I’m going to give it to you!” 

“I said let me pass,” repeated Ned firmly, mak- 
ing a determined effort to quell his rising tide of 
hot anger at the fellow’s evident determination 
to provoke him into a quarrel. 

“Call me 'sir’ when you address me,” ordered 
Kennell pugnaciously. “I’m going to teach you 
how to address your seniors in the service.” 

“I only say ‘sir’ to men I respect,” was the 
sharp retort, the very coolness of which stung 
Kennell to renewed fury. His rage was increased 
by the fact that a group of sailors, momentarily 
growing larger, began to titter at his discom- 
fiture. 

“Better leave him alone, Ralph,” laughed old 
Tom mischievously. “He’s as sharp a young file 
as I am an old one.” 

Ned took advantage of the temporary diver- 
sion to try to slip past without trouble. He had 
his own ideas of getting even with Kennell, and 
it was no part of his plan to break regulations by 
getting involved in a fight with him on shipboard. 
He stepped forward to pass on. 

Kennell was too quick for him. 

“Say 'sir’ !” he demanded. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


169 


“I have already told you for whom I reserved 
that distinction,” said Ned in a low voice, “and 
you are emphatically not in that class.” 

“Maybe this will teach you respect for your 
superiors.” 

A huge, gnarled fist, knotted and twisted by 
many a battle, shook under Ned’s nose. 

The undismayed boy gave a low laugh of con- 
tempt. 

“You’d better put that hand to work, instead 
of going round trying to scare people with it,” 
he said stingingly. 

“I will put it to work. SO !” 

Wh-oo-oo-f ! 

The fist fairly whistled as it shot out with 
the force of a torpedo speeding on its destruc- 
tive way. 

But Ned was not in its path. Thrown off 
his balance by the boy’s quick avoidance of 
the sledge-hammer blow, Kennell stumbled for- 
ward. 

Quick as‘a whip snap, Ned stepped under his 
guard and planted a crushing blow in the fighter’s 
ribs. 

But delivered as it was, with the full force of 
the Dreadnought Boy’s well-trained muscle, it 


170 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


seemed hardly to sway the bullock-like frame of 
the ship’s blusterer. 

“I’ve got the fight of my life on my hands,” 
was Ned’s* quick thought, as Kennell, recovering 
himself, prepared, with a confident grin, to anni- 
hilate his young opponent. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


171 


CHAPTER XVII. 
jiu-jitsu vs. muscle:. 

All else forgotten now, Ned fought warily. 

Time and again Kennell rushed at him, appar- 
ently trying to end the battle in a hurry. But 
every time he rained his blows on thin air. Ned, 
perceiving that his only chance lay in tiring the 
man out, had early decided to adopt cautious 
tactics. 

While avoiding the terrific rushes of his op- 
ponent, however, he still managed once in a while 
to land an effective blow. 

On Kennelbs seasoned body, however, they 
seemed to have but little effect. 

The jackies groaned in sympathy for the lad 
as he put up his plucky and skillful defense. It 
was clear that they believed that the battle would 
be simply a question of a few minutes, unless it 
was cut short by the arrival of an officer. 

As the petty officers were at dinner, however, 
and the commissioned dignitaries were enjoying 


172 


THE DEEADNOUGHT BOYS 


a smoke aft, there seemed little likelihood of any 
interference before the contest was ended. The 
men were fighting in the shelter of the turret, so 
from the bridge nothing of what was transpiring 
was visible to the navigating officers or the 
quartermasters. 

“You young hound, I’m going to kill you!” 
hissed Kennell, white with rage, as, for the twen- 
tieth time one of his terrific swings met thin air. 

“Catch me first!” mocked Ned, skipping back- 
ward with agile footwork. 

Kennell, who was breathing heavily, seemed 
fairly to spring at the lad as he spoke, but Ned 
nimbly sidestepped, and Kennell went careening 
ahead like a man shot out of a suddenly checked 
auto. 

“Keep your wind to fight with !” advised Ned 
jeeringly. But, alas for his confidence, as he 
spoke his foot caught on a deck ring he had not 
observed, and he fell backward, sprawling. 

He was up in a breath, but Kennell, with a 
roar of triumph, was on him in a flash. 

The bluejacket’s great arms, hairy as a bear’s, 
shot out and encircled Ned in a grip that threat- 
ened to crush his ribs in. 

It was a lock grip. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


173 


Ned, as the breath was slowly crushed out of 
his body, felt as if the fight had ended. 

He saw defeat, utter and absolute, staring be- 
fore him. 

Perhaps this thought gave him almost super- 
human strength, for the next minute, with an 
agile twist, he had writhed clear of the deathly 
grip and had in his turn laid hold of the bully in 
a wrestling clutch. 

It was the ancient “grapevine,” and Kennell 
smiled a cold, deadly smile as he felt and knew the 
old school-boy grip. Throwing it off as easily as 
if it had been the clutch of an infant, he crouched, 
and, rushing in, caught Ned craftily about the 
middle; but Ned, slipping aside, gripped the sailor 
with a peculiar twist, and seemingly with no 
great exertion, shot him over his head. 

The tars set up a cautious shout. 

It was an old trick of wrestling, in which Ned 
was perfectly at home; but, to his amazement, 
the agile Kennell fell on his feet as lightly as a 
cat, instead of crashing to the deck as Ned had 
expected. 

The bluejacket, brute though he was, was just 
as evidently a master wrestler and up to all the 
tricks of the game. 


174 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Indeed, as Ned watched his confident leej* as 
he recovered from what the boy had expected to 
be a crushing overthrow, there was an expression 
on the fellow’s crafty face that struck a chill that 
was almost one of dread into Ned’s heart. 

As for the jackies, they watched in silent fas- 
cination. 

Not a sound was to be heard but the quick 
“patter-patter” of the wrestlers’ feet on the decks 
as they “sparred” for a fresh opening. 

Suddenly Kennell crouched low, and, before 
Ned could check him, was once more upon the 
boy. 

But now his tactics were wholly changed. 

His method of wrestling was unlike any that 
Ned had ever seen or heard of. 

Yet how deadly it was the boy quickly began 
to experience. 

Kennell’s fingers, spread like the talons of a 
hawk, glided here and there about the lad’s 
body rapidly as the undulating movements of a 
snake. Wherever they touched, the boy felt a 
sharp shock of intense pain shoot through his 
frame. 

Beads of cold perspiration jetted out on his 
forehead. 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


175 


A numbing sickness seized hold of him. 

And still Kennell’s deadly fingers pressed here, 
there, and everywhere, bringing the sickening 
agony that Ned had already tasted in their 
wake. 

The very fact that he could not understand 
what was happening added to the boy’s alarm. 

He had been in many wrestling matches. In 
fact, he was a better performer on the mat than 
with the padded gloves, but in all his experience 
he had never met an opponent like Kennell. 

Clumsily built as the man was — he had not an 
iota of the agility possessed by the lithe and 
supple Ned — yet he seemed to wind and twist 
like a sapling under Ned’s holds; recovering from 
each grip, he laid his hands on the boy with the 
same deadly precision. 

Ned began to feel that his nervous system was 
a pincushion for his opponent to puncture at will. 

The old hiplock, the Nelson, the half-Nelson, 
the grip at the back of the neck — all these tricks 
of the wrestler’s craft Ned tried in turn, but none 
of them seemed to have any effect on Kennell. 

And all the time the bluejacket kept up his 
deadly assaults on Ned’s nerve centers, pressing 
them deftly and producing excruciating pain. 


176 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Once Ned wrenched free, and glad he was of 
the brief spell in which he could take stock of his 
remaining faculties. 

It was not that he was winded, or that Kennell 
was too strong for him. In fact, Ned felt that, 
well-muscled as the bluejacket was, he had his 
own system in better fighting shape. 

The strange methods of Kennell were what 
worried him. He could not seem to escape the 
assaults of those hawklike hands. 

Suddenly a partial explanation of the mystery 
came to him. 

Old Tom stepped forward and whispered in 
his ear, during the brief period in which the two 
sprang about, eying each other narrowly. 

“He’s jiu-jitsu ! Look out !” 

The full meaning of these words shot into 
Ned’s brain. 

He recollected now having heard some talk 
about Kennell’s having served in the Far East 
on his first enlistment. 

Doubtless it was there that he had learned the 
subtle, deadly Japanese tricks that he was now 
exercising on his inexperienced opponent. 

Gladly would Ned have come to open boxing. 
In a ring, under proper rules, he was well con- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


177 


vinced he could whip the burly Kennell ; but under 
the conditions he now faced, he was by no means 
certain of his ultimate chance of victory. 

And now Kennell, with his snakelike glide, 
closed in again, and Ned seized him without 
warning in a half-Nelson. 

Back and back bent the bulky form of the blue- 
jacket till it seemed that his vertebra must crack 
under the cruel pressure. 

But to Ned’s sickened amazement, the other 
wriggled from the hold as if he had been some 
reptile, and there was the work all to be done 
over again. 

One fact, however, Ned noticed with satis- 
faction. 

If he was becoming exhausted, Kennell was 
also tiring. His breath was coming sharply, with 
a hissing intake, like that of a laboring pump. 

The strain was telling on him. 

Ned felt, if he could only hold out a little long- 
er, that he would lay his opponent low. 

But could he last? 

The contest now was simply a matter of brute 
endurance plus skill, and in the latter quality Ned 
felt that Kennell, in his Oriental way, possessed 
the advantage. 


178 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Suddenly Ned found himself with a grip on 
both of Kennell’s arms at once. 

A flood of joy rushed through his veins. He 
felt certain that few men could resist the pressure 
he could now exert with his mighty forearms and 
biceps. 

“Now where are your jiu-jitsu tricks ?” he 
hissed, as he drew the struggling Kennell nearer 
and ever nearer with the same resistless force as 
is exerted by the return plunge of a piston. 

Kennell, his face white, with an ashy tinge 
about the corners of his mouth, said nothing, but 
fought with every ounce of strength within him 
against the steady pressure that was drawing 
him closer and closer into Ned’s crushing em- 
brace. 

As Ned had said, “Where were his jiu-jitsu 
tricks now?” 

The breathing of the two men came in short, 
sharp barks that sounded hoarsely as coughs as 
they stood straining there in a deathlike lock. 

For a second or two all motion ceased, and 
they stood, except for the working of their op- 
posed muscles, like two stone figures. 

The next instant, however, the slow, irresistible 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


179 


force of Ned’s compressing arms overcame Ken- 
nell’s stubborn resistance, and the bluejacket was 
dragged yet nearer into the toils he dreaded — 
dreaded with white, frightened face and beaded 
brow. 

But even as Ned prepared to throw him with 
a mighty crash to the deck, a strange thing hap- 
pened. 

KennelFs body grew limp as a half-filled flour 
sack and slid like an inert mass down Ned’s body. 

The next instant the boy felt his ankles gripped 
in a steel-like hold, and, utterly unable to resist, 
he was toppled over to the deck. As he fell, one 
of Kennell’s big hands slid round to the back of 
the Dreadnought Boy’s neck, and Ned simultan- 
eously experienced a queer, fainting feeling, as 
if he were being borne far away from the Man- 
hattan and his surroundings, up, far aloft, into 
the fleecy clouds. 

Again the hand struck, so softly it seemed as if 
his neck had been merely stroked, but the sense 
of illusion increased. 

Ned’s eyes closed. 

Suddenly — just as it seemed to the boy that he 
was entering a delightful land, where flowers 


180 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

bloomed luxuriantly and birds sang the sweetest 
song — a sharp voice shattered his illusion like a 
soap bubble. 

“Ned! Ned, old chap ! Get him, for the love of 
Mike!" 

It was the red-headed Here released from his 
cell ahead of time by the captain’s commutation 
of sentence. 

Like a steel spring suddenly released, Ned’s 
body curved upward, and the next instant the 
wily Kennell’s body was in his close embrace. 

This time Ned had caught him where all his 
Oriental tricks were of no avail. 

Back and back he bent Kennell till, with a great 
gasp, the bluejacket crashed down to the deck, 
his head striking with a heavy thud. 

“Downed him !” shouted old Tom, capering. 

“The kid wins!” yelled the delighted jackies. 

Kennell, dazed and astounded at his sudden 
loss of the match he had made sure was his, got 
clumsily to his feet. 

“Shake hands,” said Ned simply, extending his 
palm. “I don’t like you, Kennell, but I think you 
are the cleverest wrestler I have ever met.” 

With a scowl of fury and a half-articulated cry 
of rage, Kennell dashed the outstretched hand 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


181 


from him and hastened away from the jeering 
cries of his shipmates, with whom, as has been 
said, he was by no means popular. 

“Well, if he doesn’t care to be friends,” re- 
marked Ned, as the jackies, led by Here, crowded 
around him and shook his hand warmly, “he 
doesn’t have to. I suppose we shall have to take 
the consequences.” 

What those consequences were to be neither 
of the Dreadnought Boys dreamed at that in- 
stant. Perhaps it was as well they did not. 

While the congratulations were still going on, 
a boatswain’s mate came bustling up. 

Perhaps he detected the symptoms of some- 
thing unusual having occurred in the excited 
faces of the jackies and in Ned’s still heaving 
chest and flushed face, but he was too wise a man 
to inquire into something he had not witnessed 
with his own eyes. As it was, therefore, he sim- 
ply contented himself by inquiring for Kennell. 

“With the gun crew,” suggested one of the 
throng. 

“He won’t be long,” replied the boatswain’s 
mate shortly and with a meaning look. 

“Why not?” asked old Tom, the privileged 
character. 


182 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“Because, my boy, he has been relieved from 
duty in the forward turret and the two recruits 
put there in his place. ,, 

“Phew!” whistled the jackies, as the boat- 
swain’s mate hurried forward on his quest. 

“Now look out for squalls!” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


183 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

the: boys get ACQUAINTED with big guns. 

Two days later the squadron sighted what at 
first seemed — to the boys, at least — to be a dis- 
tant cloud of deeper blue than the surrounding 
sky. It floated on the southern horizon. 

“Cuba!” announced old Tom, who, with the 
boys, was standing on the fore deck in the “smoke 
time” succeeding the jackies’ dinner. 

“How soon will we come to anchor ?” inquired 
Here. 

“About sundown,” was the reply. “You boys 
are in for some strange sights and experiences 
down here.” 

If Tom had been a prophet of old, he could not 
have spoken more truly. The boys were indeed 
“in for some strange experiences.” 

That afternoon the gun crews were set to work 
on their various pieces of ordnance, and “dum- 
my drill” was gone through again and again till 
the officers were hoarse with shouting commands. 


184 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

In the forward turret, Ned and Here, the 
proudest bluejackets of all the Manhattan's ship’s 
company, were drilled again and again in their 
part of the gun-pointing and sighting perform- 
ance. 

Just as in actual practice — only these were 
dummies — the projectile, shining and menacing, 
and the bags of make-believe smokeless powder 
were sent up from the magazines on the electric 
ammunition hoists. From these they were rap- 
idly transferred by the gun crew, who used a sort 
of wooden trough in the process. 

“Like the hog troughs we put the mash in at 
home,” mused Here, as he laid hold of one of 
the six handles on the trough and did his best to 
fall into the rhythmic swing with which the men 
obeyed the sharp series of commands issued by 
the officer, who was Lieutenant Timmons himself. 

“Take up LOAD!” 

The projectile was laid in the trough almost as 
fast as it was shot up on the elevator. As the last 
echoes of the command rang sharply on the steel 
walls of the turret, the implement was reposing 
in its “bed.” 

“Swing LOAD!” 

By this time the shining breech — as fine as the 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 185 

mechanism of a three-hundred-dollar stop watch 
— was swung open by the breech tender. It was 
then only the work of a second to flash the pro- 
jectile into the glistening chamber. 

“Ram HOME!” 

With one quick movement, that seemed to oc- 
cupy no longer period than the tick of a clock, 
the projectile was slid to its proper place by a 
long wooden rammer. 

All this time the gun pointer — Jim Cooper by 
name — alert, watchful as a mousing cat, was 
crouched on a little platform at the side of the 
gun, sighting an imaginary mark through a tele- 
scope affixed to the gun’s side. 

The lens of this sight was marked with tiny, 
hairlike crosslines, affording the pointer the 
means of determining with almost unerring ac- 
curacy, the exact second at which the target and 
the gun were in line. In a heavy seaway, of 
course, or even in a moderate blow, the work of 
the gun pointer is much more complicated, as a 
dozen different elements and movements are at 
work to confuse and spoil his aim. 

Then came the powder charge. Several can- 
vas bags appeared on the ammunition hoist. 

“More like flourbags than powder,” thought 


186 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

Here to himself, as he helped slap them into the 
carrying tray. 

“Ram HOME!” 

The powder was shoved in with the same flash- 
like rapidity that had marked the placing of the 
huge projectile. 

“Ready, sir !” 

The chief of the loading crew saluted. 

“Ready, Cooper ?” 

“Aye, aye, sir !” 

“Close breech! FIRE!” 

The two commands seemed to be merged into 
one, so rapidly did they come. The boys and the 
rest of the crew sprang to the back of the turret 
and crouched low, as did the others as the com- 
mand was given. 

The gun pointer came last of all, springing 
backward like an acrobat. As he did so there was 
a sharp click. The lieutenant in command had 
thrown the switch that ignited the priming spark. 
The mighty charge had been touched off — in im- 
agination. 

The lieutenant looked at his watch, which he 
had held on his open palm while the crew worked. 

“Twenty-five seconds! Good work,” he an- 
nounced. “Do as well as that at battle practice, 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


187 


men, and we shall beat the Idaho to rags — on 
speed, at all events/’ 

“And on targets, too,” grimly remarked Coop- 
er, wiping his nervous hands with a bundle of 
waste. 

This was the final practice of the afternoon, 
and the rest of the time was devoted to familiar- 
izing the two young recruits with their duties 
about the turret. 

Both were quick pupils and had already studied 
something of gunnery at the Newport Training 
School, so that in a short time they thoroughly 
understood the theory of firing the big guns. 

With quick eyes both lads had noticed that the 
other twelve-inch gun — the Varian projectile 
hurler — had not been unhooded, and its grim 
breech was swathed mysteriously in waterproof 
coverings. It was in the breech that lay the com- 
plicated mechanism which made it possible to 
handle the terrific explosive power of Chaosite — 
at least, so the inventor hoped. 

As a final lesson, the boys were instructed in 
the elementary theory of gun pointing, a much 
too technical subject to enter into here. 

Here was amazed when he took his place on 
the gun-pointer’s little steel platform, to find that 


188 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


by handling a lever close to his right hand he 
could point the ponderous gun, weighing fifty- 
four tons, up or down as easily as he used to sight 
his little “twenty-two” when he went shooting 
“chucks” at home. 

“That great gun is balanced as delicately as a 
microscope,” explained the lieutenant. 

“How do you get it in lateral range ?” inquired 
Here. 

For reply, the lieutenant indicated another 
lever. 

Here touched it. 

Instantly the great turret itself began to 
quake, and then, with a soft rattling of cogs, 
commenced slowly to revolve. 

“Reverse it !” shouted the lieutenant. 

Here pulled the lever in the other direction. 

As obediently as if it had understanding, the 
tons of triple-riveted steel which composed the 
shelter for the heaviest guns in the navy began 
to turn in the opposite direction. 

“Electricity,” laughed the officer. “Electricity 
is the life-blood of the modern battleship. A 
vessel like this has a more complicated system of 
circulation than the human body. We eat by 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


189 


electricity, fire the guns by it, read by it, cook 
by it, coal by it, and ” 

“Fight by it, sir,” put in Ned quietly, carried 
away by enthusiasm. 

The lieutenant gave him a quick look, as if to 
rebuke him for his forwardness; but the shining 
light in the boy’s eyes showed the officer that, 
after all, it was real enthusiasm for the United 
States fighting ships that had incited Ned’s re- 
mark. 

“Yes,” he said quietly also, “and fight by it, 
too, Strong.” 

This concluded the great-gun drill, and the 
boys and the crew of the forward turret joined 
the other tars assembled on the forward deck, 
awaiting the sounding of the supper call. All 
over the ship, down to the marine’s little six-inch 
batteries, the same practice had been going for- 
ward. 

Already they felt set apart somewhat from 
their comrades, and proud in the thought that 
they were part of the fighting force that com- 
manded the actions of the biggest guns in the 
fleet. That it really did confer a sort of distinc- 
tion upon them was evidenced, too, by the in- 


190 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


creased cordiality with which their shipmates 
greeted them. 

“Hurray! we’re on our way to be admirals,” 
whispered Here to Ned, as they passed among 
the groups of resting jackies, returning the run- 
ning fire of joking and congratulation to which 
they were subjected on every hand. 

“Only a very little way,” laughed Ned, “though 
I feel as proud as if that was my flagship yonder 
and I was entitled to fly the two-starred blue 
flag.” 

He pointed to the van of the squadron — the 
big Connecticut — on which flew the flag of Rear- 
Admiral Gibbons. 

“If we do our duty as well as we can,” he went 
on seriously, “we are just as important to the 
fleet as any of the officers or our superiors.” 

“I guess that’s right,” agreed Here. “At any 
rate, that’s just what I heard the captain saying 
the other day to two men who had the misfortune 
to be my cellmates, and, by the way, that reminds 


Here drew Ned into a quiet niche — a hard place 
to find on the busy, crowded fore deck of the man- 
o’-war — and in whispers told him of the conver- 
sation he had overheard. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


191 


“Ought we to tell the captain ?” he concluded. 

Ned hesitated. 

“I don’t think so. Not yet, at any rate,” he 
decided after an interval of thought. “We shall 
have shore leave at Guantanamo, I understand, 
and we will employ it by keeping close on the 
track of those two fellows. Neither of them im- 
agine we know their plans, so that we have that 
advantage, and we may be able to do something 
that will bring us really in the line for promotion. 
I wonder how Kennell got into it, though?” 

“I suppose the fact that he was familiar with 
the Varian gun, from his detail in the fore turret, 
had something to do with their bribing him,” 
suggested Here. “However, we may be on the 
eve of finding out.” 

Destiny was holding big things in reserve for 
the Dreadnought Boys. 


192 TfiE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XIX. 
in the; midst of peace:. 

As the sun was sinking that night in a blaze 
of red and gold behind the green-bowered coast 
of Cuba, the boys, leaning over the starboard rail 
with hundreds of other white-uniformed jackies, 
saw a sudden signal broken out on the after sig- 
nal halliards of the flagship. 

“Coming to an anchorage,” exclaimed old 
Tom, as the string of gayly colored signal flags 
fluttered out. “There’s Guantanamo yonder.” 
He pointed to a huddle of red roofs set among 
tall palms. 

“The signal’s for flying moorings !” exclaimed 
Here, who, as well as Ned, had received a thor- 
ough schooling in signaling at the training school. 

“That’s right,” rejoined old Tom approvingly, 
“flying moorings it is.” 

And now all became activity throughout the 
fleet. Aboard the Manhattan, and, indeed, on 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 193 

every other ship of the squadron, the most active 
bustle prevailed. 

Coming to “flying moorings” is one of the 
greatest tests of a captain’s ability to handle his 
ship, and right well did every commander in that 
squadron of ten mighty fighting ships show that 
he was entitled to wear his uniform. 

Master’s mates flew about among the crew of 
the Manhattan , and a shrill sound of piping arose 
as the men assigned to the various posts connected 
with dropping the vessel’s “mud hooks” hastened 
to their stations. 

“Look close now! You are going to see some- 
thing worth watching,” said old Tom, as the 
crucial moment drew near. 

On the flagship ahead the lads saw motion sud- 
denly cease, following a mighty splash as her 
huge anchor shot downward twenty fathoms or 
more, and her engines ceased revolving for the 
first time in many days. 

At the same instant the boys’ hands instinct- 
ively flew to their caps in a prompt salute as Old 
Glory broke out on the rear-admiral’s jackstaff 
and fluttered in the evening breeze, a sign that 
the ship was at anchor. 

On the bridge of the Manhattan , Captain Dun- 


194 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

ham, his officers in full uniform at his side and 
an attentive midshipman at his elbow, was watch- 
ing his flagship anxiously. As she swung to her 
anchor a sharp command was barked out: 

“Slow down !” 

The middy’s hand shoved the engine-room tele- 
graph indicator over, and instantly the strong 
vibration of the engines began to diminish. It 
felt strange, this sudden cessation of a sound and 
motion that the boys had come to regard almost 
as second nature. 

“Let go the star-bo-ard an-chor !” 

“Aye, aye, sir !” shouted a watchful boatswain’s 
mate, springing forward. 

Instantly a shrill screeching of whistles broke 
out, and with a mighty roar the great anchor of 
the Manhattan shot from the cat-heads and 
plunged into the water. 

After it roared thirty fathoms of chain before 
the further screams of the pipes stopped the rapid 
“paying out” of the iron-linked cable. The Man- 
hattan, her engines idle at last, came to an an- 
chorage. 

“Caught her to the eighth of an inch, sir !” re- 
marked Lieutenant-Commander Scott to his chief. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 195 

Sailor-like pride wreathed the faces of every 
man on the bridge. 

The Manhattan swung at anchor behind her 
flagship at precisely the same distance as she had 
steamed in column behind her all the long voyage 
from New York. It was a feat to be proud of, 
and called for a high degree of seamanship. 

Behind the Manhattan the other vessels came 
to similar moorings, the Stars and Stripes flut- 
tering out from the stern staff of each as the 
anchor touched the bottom. It was a sight to 
make the heart of a patriot beat proudly. Ten 
of the finest ships in the United States Navy 
swung at exact intervals in a perfect line. The 
flag of their country whipped out from the stern 
staff of each, as if in defiance of their country's 
foes. 

Hardly had the anchor of the Iowa , the last 
ship in line, dropped before from the flagship 
another signal was broken out. 

“Well done!" read Ned, studying the bright 
bits of bunting. “Congratulations to officers and 
men." 

A great cheer went up from the fore deck of 
the Manhattan, and its echoes went winging 


196 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


down the line of grim fighting craft and was 
caught up by ship after ship. 

At almost the same instant the sun dipped be- 
hind the coast hills, and the bugles began to 
sound the musical call of “Retreat.” 

It was the boys’ first opportunity to see the 
impressive ceremony of “colors,” as the lowering 
of the flag on a man-o’-war is termed. The cere- 
mony is not gone through at sea, and the boys 
had been below when it had been carried out in 
New York on their first night on board. 

Now they were to witness one of the most im- 
pressive ceremonies of the United States Navy. 

Division after division of the crew was formed 
in line and marched aft, in rhythmic tread, to the 
stern deck, on which stood Captain Dunham and 
a group of his officers in full uniform, the last 
rays of the sun glinting on their gold braid. 

The men stood facing the flag and grouped on 
each side of the deck. Their hands raised uni- 
formly in salute to the flag as at the last notes 
of the bugle it slowly descended the staff. 

As it reached the deck, the band, stationed 
with their shining instruments on the starboard 
side of the ship, burst forth into the “Star- 
Spangled Banner.” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


197 


The eyes of every man on that deck shone as 
the emblem for which they were pledged to fight 
fluttered down and the band blared forth the in- 
spiring strains of the national anthem. Their 
officers stood in a little group, bare-headed, the 
chaplain conspicuous among them in his plain 
braided garb. 

"First division, right about face!” 

The sharp command of the ensign in charge 
of that division broke the impressive silence. 

"March!” 

Division after division, the men melted away 
from the after deck and left the little group of 
officers standing chatting alone. In all their af- 
ter years in the navy, the two Dreadnought Boys 
never forgot that ceremony. Its recollection 
remained with them long after the annoying in- 
cidents and trials of their first year of service 
had faded. 

There were three men in that crew, however, 
on whose hearts the solemn scene made no im- 
pression. These men were Carl Schultz, his 
friend Silas, and Ralph Kennell. 

In the breast of the latter dark feelings of 
hatred burned, and a keen sense of humiliation 
over his deposition from the forward turret ren- 


198 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


dered him oblivious to any better feelings. As 
the second division, in which all three were sta- 
tioned, wheeled to return forward, their eyes met, 
and in them there flashed something that seemed 
more than a mere gleam of recognition. 

Was there actually more in the glance they ex- 
changed than seemed to be the case? Was it a 
mutual sense that they were at the scene which 
was to be the theatre of their daring attempt? 

We shall see. 

As the Dreadnought Boys sat discussing the 
ceremony they had witnessed and earnestly talk- 
ing over their plans and ambitions, they became 
aware that a hush had fallen over the fore deck 
and that a group of men were carrying something 
aft. 

With the other men, they pressed closer to see 
what the burden was, and were startled to hear a 
sudden groan. 

On the stretcher the men carried lay a bronze- 
faced jackie, his skin a deadly white under the 
brown. Drops of sweat — the moisture of agony 
— jetted his forehead as he was borne past on 
his way to the sick bay, where the surgeon and 
his assistants were already prepared to begin a 
battle for his life. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


199 


“It's Bill Hudgins,” ran the word among the 
jackies. “He was crushed badly when the cable 
caught him as we dropped anchor.” 

Although the boys afterward had the pleas- 
ure of meeting Hudgins and congratulating him 
on his recovery, the incident taught them that 
even in times of peace there is peril to be faced 
on board a man-o’-war, and that it is the duty 
of Uncle Sam’s fighters to meet it unflinchingly. 

After supper that night, while the men were 
still discussing poor Hudgins’ mishap, the boat- 
swain’s mate — the same one who had received 
them on board — hastened up to Ned and Here as 
they lay on the fore deck, gazing at the soft tropic 
stars, and announced: 

“It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good. 
Hudgins was signalman of the target officer’s 
wherry. You boys go out in his place to-mor- 
row.” 


200 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XX. 

HERC — A LIVING TARGET. 

To the keen disappointment of the boys, how- 
ever, they found out the next day that they were 
not, as they had anticipated, to go together in the 
target officer’s “wherry,” as the small boat he 
used was called. 

Ned was to accompany the officer — a young en- 
sign named Rousseau — while Here was to take 
his place as acting signalman in one of the two 
big whale boats that were detailed to attend to 
the targets. The man who ordinarily undertook 
this duty being assigned to the signal post in the 
“flying bridge” of the flagship. 

Immediately after breakfast, the Manhattan , 
which was to have sole charge of the target- 
placing, lowered the three boats and one of her 
“steamers.” The targets were set up on the 
floats already provided for them before the call 
for the first meal of the day sounded. 

These targets were huge sheets of canvas 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


201 


twenty feet high and twenty-five feet broad, 
which were to be towed to a distance of a mile 
and a half from the battle-practice ground and 
anchored. Each was marked into squares by thin 
lines, with a big square of black in the center for 
a bull's-eye. 

There were ten of them, and they were to be 
ranged in a line. The first test to be applied was 
firing by the flagship from anchorage. This was 
more to get the range than anything else. The 
real practice would come later, when the ships in 
column steamed past the targets, firing one after 
the other at designated marks. This was to be 
the real test of the fleet's gunnery, and one in 
which the men of the Idaho felt confident they 
would again shine preeminent. 

The Manhattan's gun crews, on the contrary, 
felt just as sure of capturing the scarlet “meat 
ball," the trophy of the fleet. 

The Manhattan's steamer lay, with a full head 
of power, alongside the man-o'-war as Ned and 
Here, with their signal flags, emerged from their 
quarters forward with the rest of the men as- 
signed to placing the targets. 

The targets, as has been said, had already been 
set in place on the big collapsible scows which 


202 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


had been towed out from the shore during the 
night. Nothing remained but to tow them out 
and place them. 

The range would then be picked up as soon as 
Ned wig-wagged the ensign's signal to the flag- 
ship that all was ready. For this purpose, the * 
commanders of the different vessels had been 
summoned by signal to appear on the Connecti- ; 
cut that morning and take part in a “counsel of 
war" in the rear-admiral's cabin. 

As Ned clambered down the sea ladder after 
the ensign and took his place in the little boat 
he was to occupy, he saw, with a start of sur- 
prise, that among Here's companions in the 
whaleboat were Carl Schultz, the black-browed 
Silas, and Kennell. He felt further misgivings 
as he took notice of the black glances Kennell 
cast at the unconscious Here, who was far too 
engrossed in the excitement of his first real duty 
to pay any attention to his shipmates. 

Rapidly the boats were towed out to the spot 
selected for placing the first target, and Ned, 
with a telescope to his eye, anxiously watched 
the flagship for the signal to stop. 

At last he spied the expected flags fluttering 
up on the halliards and notified the ensign. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


203 


“Make it so,” rejoined that officer, and Ned 
rapidly “wig-wagged” that the signal had been 
seen and would be carried out. Here, at the same 
moment, was standing in the stern of the whale- 
boat, doing the same thing. 

The first target anchored, the “steamer” towed 
her convoy to the next position, which was in- 
dicated by a signal from the flagship as the first 
had been. One after another the targets were 
anchored in position, and at last, about an hour 
before eight bells — noon — everything was ready 
for the range testing, and the signal recalling the 
steamer fluttered from the flagship. 

The whaleboat on which Here was stationed 
was in command of a petty officer, as was the 
other small craft. The only commissioned offi- 
cer assigned to the comparatively unimportant 
duty of target placing was, therefore, the ensign 
in the wherry in which Ned was posted as signal- 
man. In this boat there was but one oarsman; 
however, he seemed to be plenty for the craft, 
which was a light one and rowed easily. 

One after another a final inspection was made 
of the targets, and after a thorough overhauling, 
all was pronounced ready for the tests to 
begin. 


r 204 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

To ascertain if all was in order, the ensign had 
his boat rowed up to each of the targets in turn. 
Ned, at his side, sent the signal that each was 
O. K. successively back to the flagship as they 
were examined. 

“Rather awkward, sir, if they were to fire at a 
target while we were standing on the scow,” re- 
marked Ned, as they stood on the undulating 
platform supporting the last screen of canvas. 

“Well, rather, Strong,” laughed the ensign. 
“I imagine our earthly troubles would be over 
very shortly.” 

“But if the shell passed above us, sir?” asked 
Ned respectfully, as he wanted to accumulate all 
the knowledge he could of gunnery. 

“The air currents generated by the high ve- 
locity of the shell would sweep anything within 
even ten feet of it to destruction,” rejoined the 
ensign learnedly. “Of course,” he added laugh- 
ingly, “nobody has ever tested it, but I should 
imagine that the gases generated by such a pro- 
jectile would poison anything that happened to 
be in the vicinity as it passed.” 

Ned nodded thoughtfully. 

As they regained the wherry he gazed about 
him. 


' ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


205 


The sea stretched sparklingly blue under the 
tropic skies as far as the eye could reach. 

Right ahead of them was extended the line of 
snowy targets, seeming huge enough at such close 
range, small' a? they appeared to the battleships 
a mile and a quarter off. In spite of the beauty 
of the scene and the glorious crispness of the sea 
air, Ned felt an oppression, the cause of which 
he himself would have found difficult to deter- 
mine. 

“If I was superstitious, I should say that I 

had a premon — a premon Oh, I forget the 

word! But, anyhow, that I had a ‘hunch’ that 
something was going to happen,” mused Ned to 
himself. 

But it was no time for musing. 

The whaleboats were beginning to back away 
to safe quarters before the firing commenced. At 
the ensign’s command, the wherry followed them. 

“Give them the signal to go ahead, Strong!” 
ordered the ensign sharply at length, as they lay 
bobbing at some distance from the targets. The 
bronzed arms of the oarsman were motionless 
and his eyes were fixed intently on the far-off 
line of battleships. 

Ned stood erect in the stern of the plunging 


206 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

wherry. Awkward as the motion would have 
been to a landsman, to the Dreadnought Boy it 
was hardly noticeable. 

His brown arms dipped and rose, and with 
their motion the red signal flag cut arcs against 
the blue sky. 

Far off, on the bridge of the flagship, the look- 
out, gazing through his telescope, reported to the 
anxious group of officers that all was ready. 

Rapidly the word was passed to the port 
twelve-inch turret, it having been decided to use 
the big guns on test work. 

Boom! 

The report followed a flash of red flame. The 
battleship trembled to her keel plates as the sound 
reverberated. 

The shell sped screeching through the air. 

“Phsiw-is-s-s-s-s-s-s-s !” 

Straight for the end target it sped, and a sec- 
ond later the lookout, reading off Ned’s wig- 
wagging signals, announced in a curt voice: 

“Bull’s-eye, sir.” 

A little chorus of congratulation followed 
among the officers. 

“That’s the stuff!” murmured the ensigns and 
middies. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


207 


“Excellent work/' was the comment of their 
more dignified senior officers. 

“Signal whaleboat Number One to replace can- 
vas, ordered the ensign, and Ned promptly 
transmitted the signal to the boat in which Here 
was signalman. The red-headed lad answered 
his chum’s signal promptly, and in a minute the 
double-ender was scooting through the water on 
its errand. 

The work of placing fresh canvas on the tar- 
get did not consume long, and in a short time 
Here, standing in the stern of the whaler, wig- 
wagged back to Ned that all was ready. 

“Number One whaleboat signals 'all ready/ 
sir/’ announced Ned. 

“Very well. Order them to pull away,” said 
the ensign. 

Ned transmitted the order, and the men who 
had been holding the boat to the scow by their 
boathooks cast off hastily. 

Ned’s attention was instantly turned to the 
ensign, awaiting fresh orders. Had it not been 
for that, he would have seen something transpir- 
ing on the whaleboat which would have filled him 
with rage. 

Kennell it was who had charge of the stern 


208 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


boathook. His station was on the small grating 
astern of the petty officer's seat. On this grat- 
ing Here, too, was standing. As the boat was 
shoved off, Here felt his feet suddenly twitched 
from under him, and the next minute he toppled 
headlong into the sea. 

The crew of the boat, bending to their oars at 
top speed — for they knew that the deadly pro- 
jectile would soon be winging toward them — ap- 
parently did not see what had occurred, and bent 
over their oars without a thought of Here's peril. 
Kennel!, with an evil grin on his hard features, 
clambered back into the boat with the look on 
his face of a man who has done a good day's 
work. 

At the speed at which the whaleboat was 
urged through the water, it was out of earshot 
by the time Here rose to the surface. Indeed, 
the unexpected immersion had resulted in his 
swallowing so much water that he was unable to 
shout. 

Blowing a stream of water from his lips, he 
struck out for the nearest target, the one which 
had just been replaced. 

“I'll just camp there till they see me," he 
thought. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


209 


A few strokes brought him alongside the float 
once more, and he scrambled up its wet sides, not 
without some difficulty. In fact, when he gained 
the flat upper surface of the target’s support he 
was breathing heavily. 

The sea, too, had risen since they had rowed 
out, and one of those sudden squalls that are so 
common in the tropics was whirling in from sea- 
ward. Here did not see this, however — the 
mighty screen of canvas behind him veiled it 
from the boy’s view. 

The men in the boats had, however, spied the 
approaching bad weather, and orders were given 
to get up spray hoods in the bows of the craft. 

“Well,” thought Here, “I’m being rocked in 
the cradle of the deep with a vengeance. How- 
ever, I get a little rest from that eternal wig- 
wagging. That’s one comfort.” 

Suddenly a thought struck him that sent a cold 
shiver down his spine. 

In his new-found security he had given no 
thought to a peril that now loomed imminent. 

He was seated on the float at which the flag- 
ship was firing. 

At any moment they might send another shot 
toward it, and then what would happen ? 


210 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“HI signal them,” thought Here; but even as 
the thought entered his mind he recollected that 
as he had gone overboard the flags had gone 
with him. 

He was marooned on a floating target, with 
every prospect of having a twelve-inch shell come 
shrieking toward him at any moment. 

Suddenly Here saw a string of flags hoisted 
on the flagship. Instinctively he knew what they 
meant. 

Ned, his cousin and chum, had signaled that 
all was ready, and the Connecticut was about to 
open fire! 

Situated far to the rear of the target as they 
were, Here knew that those in the boats had not 
sighted him, and unless he was missed from the 
Number One whaleboat, his doom was sealed. 
He could have screamed aloud with real terror at 
the peril of his situation. 

At almost the same instant his burning eyes 
saw a burst of flame suddenly flash from the side 
of the battleship. Here's brain reeled. Already 
he could hear the scream of the shell, and in 
fancy saw his dismembered body flung in torn 
fragments before it. 

“Phsiwis-is-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s !” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


211 


The projectile shrieked nearer and nearer and 
passed like a thunderbolt through the target, rip- 
ping it from top to bottom with a vicious hiss. 
It plunged into the sea far beyond, ricocheting 
from wave to wave for two miles or more. 

But the float was empty of life. 

Here had vanished. 


212 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XXL 

AFXOAT AND ASHORE). 

The petty officer in command of Number One 
whaleboat noted the effect of the shot and then 
looked about for Here. As we know, the red- 
headed lad was not on board, nor did any inquiry 
among the crew bring a satisfactory explanation 
of his whereabouts. 

The men had seen him standing on the stern, 
and then had lost track of him. They had sup- 
posed that he was “somewhere on board,” they 
said. 

Kennell alone volunteered an explanation. 

“He may have tumbled overboard, sir,” he sug- 
gested. “I saw him standing up in the stern- 
sheets as I cast off with my boathook.” 

“We must communicate with Ensign Rosseau 
at once,” said the officer, greatly agitated. 

He knew that a searching investigation would 
follow the loss of a man, and he foresaw that he 
would appear in no very creditable light without 



The triangular fin was now close upon the lad 





ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


213 


any explanation to offer as to the manner in which 
Here had vanished. 

Rapidly the whaleboat was rowed to the 
wherry, which ‘day to” some distance away, with 
the Number Two whaleboat alongside. 

The tidings of Here’s loss were received with 
some anxiety by the ensign. He turned to Ned, 
whose face had gone white at the news, and asked 
curtly if Here could swim. 

“Like a fish, sir,” was Ned’s rejoinder, al- 
though he had hard work to keep his lips from 
quivering at the thought of his friend’s possible 
fate. 

“Then there is a chance that he can be saved 
yet,” breathed the ensign; “give way for that 
float yonder. Strong, signal the news to the flag- 
ship and inform them that we are standing by.” 

Ned, badly unnerved as he was, made the nec- 
essary signals, and received an order to “carry 
on” from the flag-ship. 

The two whaleboats and the wherry at once 
got under way for the target near which Here 
had last been seen. 

Suddenly Ned gave a shout and pointed ahead. 

“Look, sir, look!” he cried. 

Not more than a hundred feet from them a 


214 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


rubicund object, which a second glance showed 
to be Here’s head, was bobbing about on the 
waves. 

But the water had by this tirae grown dark 
and oily-looking. The approaching squall would 
burst in all its fury in a few minutes. 

The work of saving the swimming lad must 
be accomplished within a brief few minutes, or 
not at all. 

“Hold on, my lad, we’ll get you,” hailed the en- 
sign encouragingly, as the wherry drew closer 
and closer to the plucky boy. 

“Aye, aye, sir,” hailed back Here, expelling a 
thin stream of water from his lips and giving a 
cheerful grin; “but hurry up, for I’ve forgotten 
my lightning-rod, and it looks like thunder.” 

But, just as Here’s easy rescue seemed a mat- 
ter of certainty, the intentions of his saviors were 
interfered with in a startling fashion. 

It was Ned who saw the impending peril first. 

“Look! Look there!” he shouted. “What’s 
that, sir?” 

“That” was a black, triangular object, moving 
through the water toward the unconscious Here, 
who was treading water easily. The dark ob- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 215 

ject came on at a rapid pace, the ripples parting 
on each side of it as it cut its way along. 

The ensign's reply to Ned’s exclamation was 
a cry of alarm. 

“Give way!” he shouted. “We’ve got to get 
that man quickly, if at all.” 

Ned looked his question. 

“It’s a shark!” shot out the ensign, his face 
ashy- white and his lips sternly compressed ; “these 
waters swarm with them.” 

Ned was almost unnerved. The boat was still 
some feet from Here, and the triangular fin was 
now close upon the lad. 

Suddenly its steady motion ceased, and it shot 
forward with a rush. 

At the same instant Here perceived his peril, 
and gave one harrowing shriek, as he saw the 
terrible nature of the approaching peril. 

He swam desperately toward the boats, his 
countenance strained and lined with the effort 
and the horror under which he labored. 

“Crack!” 

The sharp bark of a service revolver sounded. 

“Crack! crack!” 

Again and again the reports reverberated, and 


216 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

the water behind Here grew troubled and crim- 
son. 

The fin vanished and only a small whirlpool 
remained to show where the mortally wounded 
shark had sunk slowly downward. 

In the stern of the wherry stood Ned, his face 
set and stern, and in his hand the navy revolver 
that had done the work. 

It was the ensign’s weapon, which he had laid 
on the stern seat for his greater ease in moving 
about. 

Ned, casting about for some means of saving 
Here, had suddenly spied it, and, on the impulse 
of the moment, had snatched it up and fired. 

“Well done, my lad,” said the ensign in a voice 
that still trembled from the keen tension of the 
past few minutes. 

“Sir — I ” began Ned, somewhat alarmed, 

now that Here was out of danger. He had com- 
mitted what he knew must be a breach of disci- 
pline in seizing the officer’s pistol. 

“You mean that it wasn’t quite the thing to do 
to use my revolver,” laughed the ensign. “My 
lad, I’m proud that it was put to such good serv- 
ice; glad that you were quick enough of wit to 
use it in the nick of time.” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


217 


A few moments later Here was on board the 
wherry, and in reply to the eager questions of its 
occupants, gave them a brief account of his acci- 
dent. He did not mention the fact that it was 
Kennell who had tripped him for the second time, 
however, saving that for Ned’s private ear later 
on. Here had his own ideas about getting even 
with the brutal blue-jacket. 

“When I saw that nothing could save me from 
being 'wiped out/ I stayed on the float,” related 
Here. “I recollected that I had felt an iron 
brace on its subsurface with my foot, as I clam- 
bered up on to it. 

“The minute I saw the signal, therefore, I 
dived and hung on to the brace under water till 
I felt sure the shell had passed. Then I came 
up to the surface, and the rest you know.” 

“Thanks to your friend Strong, here,” amended 
the ensign, “whose gallant conduct and presence 
of mind I mean to mention especially to Captain 
Dunham on our return to the ship. Had it not 
been for Strong’s quick and sure aim, your ad- 
venture might have had a different termination, 
my man.” 

And now the long-expected squall burst in 
leaden-colored fury. To the boys, who had never 


218 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


witnessed a tropical squall, its rage was amazing. 
The flag-ship, which had seen its approach, had 
already signaled the recall, and the boats were 
on their way back to the Manhattan when the 
tempest broke. 

“Bale boat !” was the order transmitted 
through the little flotilla as the waves began to 
come climbing over the bows of the small craft 
and torrents of rain invaded them also. 

By the time the battleship’s side was reached, 
however, the squall was over and the sun shin- 
ing out brightly once more. 

“That’s the suddenest thing I ever saw,” 
gasped Ned to Here, as they regained the deck 
of their five-million-dollar home, as Here called 
the big Dreadnought. 

“It’s not half as sudden as what’s going to 
happen to a young party named Kennell before 
very long,” grinned Here meaningly. 

* * * * * * * 

Two nights later there was a brilliant scene at 
the Hotel del Gran Plaza, the principal hostelry 
of Guantanamo. The mayor and civic dignita- 
ries of the town, together with the merchants of 
the place, were giving a dinner and reception to 
the officers of the squadron. 


0 NT BATTLE PRACTICE 


219 


During the time that had elapsed since Here's 
rescue, the Dreadnought Boys had been partici- 
pating in their capacity as two of the crew of 
the forward turret in battle practice. They had 
in that time become used to the big twelve-inch 
gun, and proved themselves capable of the re- 
' sponsibility and confidence vested in them by 
their officers. 

Well pleased with themselves, therefore, the 
two lads had come off the ship that evening for 
shore leave. They had employed much of their 
time in strolling about, buying souvenirs and 
post-cards — which have even invaded Cuba — and 
seeing the few sights the town had to offer. Be- 
ing both temperate, clean-cut young fellows, the 
low drinking dens and other resorts of the place 
had no attraction for them, although they were 
well patronized by a number of the sailors. To 
the credit of Uncle Sam's navy, though, be it 
said that the keepers of such places are coming 
to look less and less to the wearers of naval 
uniforms for their profits. The man-o’-warsman 
of to-day is an ambitious young fellow. He is 
far too anxious to get ahead in his chosen pro- 
fession to haunt places of foolish dissipation. 

“Say, Ned — moving pictures!" Here nudged 


220 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


his companion, as the two stood in front of a 
brilliantly lighted building on the main street of 
the Cuban town. 

“We’ve got some time yet before the shore 
boats leave; let’s take them in,” suggested Ned. 

As this was just what Here had been anxious 
to do, no time was lost in buying tickets and se- 
curing two seats well down in front, where the 
two boys had a clear view of every film as it was 
displayed. 

After the exhibition of two or three of the 
pictures, stories familiar in such places, the screen 
suddenly announced that the next picture was to 
be a series of views taken in the Joliet peniten- 
tiary, showing the various phases of convict life. 
A note explained that the pictures had been taken 
a few years before, prior to the wave of prison 
reform that had swept over the country. 

The first scene showed the interior of a bas- 
ket-making shop, with the rows of stripe-clothed 
unfortunates at work on their monotonous tasks. 
One after another similar repulsive views were 
shown. * * 

“Say, let’s get out of this — the air seems bad,” 
breathed Ned at last. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


221 


As he spoke a fresh view was thrown on the 
screen. It showed a group of life-prisoners at 
work in the prison-yard. Unlike the other pic- 
tures, this one exhibited the figures at more than 
life-size. In their exaggerated proportions every 
form showed up clear as print, and the features 
of each hard face could be as clearly defined as if 
the pictured subject was a living being. 

The boys had risen to leave, but a sudden ex- 
clamation from Here brought them to a sudden 
halt. 

Angry murmurs in Spanish rose about the 
boys. 

“W-what’s the matter ?” asked Ned in an as- 
tonished voice, gazing about. 

“Come on, you chump, and let’s get out of here. 
We’re blocking the views of the Cubanolas, or 
whatever they call themselves ; but before you go, 
look at the two center convicts in that picture. 
Who do they remind you of ?” 

Here’s voice shook with excitement. Ned 
gazed a few seconds fixedly at the screen, while 
the angry hum of protest increased. 

“Seat-a down,” came voices. 

“By the big horn-spoon, those two wearers of 


222 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


stripes are Carl Schultz and his pal, Silas, or 
I’m a Dutchman,” sputtered Ned, as the two boys, 
having exhausted the patience of the audience 
seated behind them, beat a hasty retreat. 


ON BATTLE PBACTICE 


223 


CHAPTER XXII. 

A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 

“You are sure of it, aren’t you?” 

Here asked the question as they gained the 
street. 

“Certain,” replied Ned; “no mistaking that un- 
derhung jaw and heavy brow of friend Silas.” 

“Or that lady-like simper of the rascal Schultz. 
Ned, I feel that we are on the verge of big dis- 
coveries.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know ; it’s in the air — like electricity.” 

“Well, they’ll have to hurry along — those big 
discoveries of yours, I mean,” laughed Ned; “for 
it’s ten-thirty now, and the shore boats will be 
at the float at eleven-thirty.” 

“That’s an hour,” responded Here, “and many 
a big battle has been fought and won in that 
time. By Hookey!” he broke off suddenly, “did 
you see those two fellows who just passed?” 

“I saw two rather fleshy men in evening 


224 : THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

clothes hurry by in the direction of the hotel. 
Why?” 

“Did you recognize them?” 

Ned laid a hand on Here’s shoulder and 
wheeled the red-headed Dreadnought Boy about. 

“Say, Here, what’s the matter with you to- 
night? You’ve got remember itis, or some simi- 
lar disease. Who are you going to recognize 
next ?” 

“I don’t know ; likely to run into Gran’pa Zack, 
if this keeps up. Those two fellows were the 
same pair of worthies we yanked out of the seats 
that day in the subway.” 

Here chuckled at the recollection. 

“No?” 

“Yes.” 

“The Pulsifer 4 Gun people. The concern that 
sells American-made guns to foreign powers?” 

“That’s right.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“As certain as I am that the two figures in that 
convict picture were Silas and Schultz.” 

“If that is the case, we might just trail after 
them a little way. There’s little danger of their 
recognizing us. I don’t imagine that they are 
here, while the fleet is on battle practice and try- 


OX BATTLE PEACTICE 


225 


in g out new guns, for any good or patriotic pur- 
pose/’ 

“That’s just my idea. Anyhow, they are go- 
ing toward the hotel where all that glare of light 
is. As we want to have a peep at the festivities 
anyway, we might as well kill two birds with one 
stone.” 

“I agree with you. Come on.” 

The two Dreadnought Boys wheeled about and 
began to follow the course taken by the red-faced, 
be-diamonded men they had last encountered so 
strangely in New York. 

As they had guessed, the pair they were shad- 
owing went directly to the hotel — the front of 
which bore a brilliantly illuminated set-piece, 
formed of hundreds of red, white and blue incan- 
descents, the whole forming a representation of 
the Stars and Stripes. Instinctively the two lads 
saluted the colors, and then passed up the broad 
wooden steps on to a capacious veranda. 

Through windows opening on to it they could 
see the long dinner-tables, at which, the meal 
concluded, officers and civilians now sat listening 
to the more or less complimentary speeches of 
the citizens and dignitaries of Guantanamo. 

“Looking at the big wigs, eh?” 


226 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

The boys turned. 

Behind them stood old Tom. The boys greeted 
him warmly. 

“Coming down the street? I want to buy a 
few gim-cracks for the kids at home.” 

The lads shook their heads. For reasons of 
their own they were anxious to remain about the 
hotel till they caught a further glimpse of the 
two red-faced men. 

“Fll meet you here in half an hour then,” sug* 
gested old Tom. 

And so it was agreed. The old man-o’-wars- 
man hurried off and left the boys standing be- 
hind one of the big palms, with which the veranda 
was decorated, discussing in low tones their next 
move. 

But, as things turned out, it was not left to 
the boys to determine their actions of the imme- 
diate future. 

A door leading from the banquet-room sud- 
denly opened, and through their leafy screen the 
boys spied the two red-faced men emerge. They 
were accompanied by a tall, distinguished-look- 
ing man, who wore a Van Dyke beard and was 
garbed in evening dress. He was smoking a 
cigar. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


227 


As the voices of the three fell on their ears, 
the boys gave a start. 

One of the red-faced men had addressed their 
ill-matched companion as “Varian.”' The boys at 
the same instant recognized the inventor of Chao- 
site and the untried gun for handling the power- 
ful explosive, from the picture they had seen of 
him in the papers. 

Eagerly Ned and Here listened to catch the 
drift of their talk, but the three spoke in 
low tones. Suddenly in a heightened voice, 
however, one of the red-faced men suggested 
that they should seek the garden to smoke 
their cigars. 

“You will really enjoy seeing the grounds here, 
Varian, if you have not done so,” said Dave Pul- 
sifer persuasively; “and under this moon they are 
one of the most beautiful sights the tropics have 
to offer.” 

“I should like it above all things, gentlemen,” 
responded Varian cordially, “and in the coolness 
we can talk over the proposition you say you 
have to make.” 

The three, chatting easily, passed down the 
steps and strolled down a smooth path which led 
round the corner of the hotel and into the tropi- 


228 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

cal gardens, which reached for a considerable 
area behind it. 

“The proposition you have to make.” 

The words rang in Ned's ears. 

Could it be possible that Henry Varian, whose 
invention was already pledged to the United 
States navy, was dealing with one of the foreign 
powers represented by the Pulsifers for its pur- 
chase? 

There was only one way to learn if the navy 
was dealing with a traitor. Ned decided in a 
flash to adopt it. 

“Come on, Here," he whispered. “We've got 
to follow them and hear what they are talking 
about." 

“But we shall be eavesdropping," objected 
Here. 

“Yes; eavesdropping for the flag,” snapped 
Ned in a low, tense tone, as, with a swift glance 
about him, he dropped over the rail of the ve« 
randa and on to the soft ground beneath. He 
landed as noiselessly as a cat. 

Here followed him, but was not so successful. 
In fact, as he struck the ground with a crash, he 
ejaculated: 

“Ouch!" in a loud, startled tone. 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


229 


Luckily a burst of applause from within, at 
some sentiment expressed by one of the speech- 
makers, drowned his exclamation. Ned, in an 
angry whisper, demanded to know what was 
the matter with his red-headed companion. 

“Gee whitakers! I dropped into a porcupine, 
I think,” moaned Here. “I feel like a human 
pin-cushion.” 

Ned looked at his chum, and then, serious as 
was the situation, he could not help breaking into 
a low laugh. 

“Here, you poor fellow, I’m sorry for you,” he 
exclaimed. “You’ve tumbled into a cactus- 
bush.” 

“Oh, is that it?” rejoined Here. “Well, what- 
ever it is, I can’t walk till I get some of these 
stickers out of me. You go ahead, Ned, and I’ll 
meet you here in half an hour when Tom gets 
back.” 

And so it was agreed that Here was to await 
Ned’s return and employ the time in extracting 
what he called “stickers.” 

“Good-bye, Here,” said Ned, under his breath, 
as he slipped off cautiously, avoiding moonlit 
spots and dodging along in the black shadows. 

“So long,” muttered Here, as he painfully 


230 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


made toward the hotel steps. “If ever I get these 
things out of me,” he added to himself, ‘Til never 
put a tack in any one’s chair again. I know just 
how it feels now. I’m full of that tack-tus, or 
whatever you call it.” 

With the aid of a grinning colored bell-boy, 
Here soon got rid of most of his “bristles.” By 
the time old Tom arrived at the appointed meet- 
ing-place he was comparatively comfortable once 
more. 

“Where’s Ned?” demanded the old salt, gazing 
about him, as Here greeted him. 

“Oh, he’ll be here in a minute. He just went 
off to talk to some old friends — or rather ac- 
quaintances,” responded Here lightly. “He’ll be 
here immediately or sooner.” 

But Ned was not “here” in a few minutes or 
in many minutes. 

Impatiently the two — the Dreadnought Boy 
and the old blue- jacket — awaited his coming, but 
the lad did not appear. 

Eleven o’clock struck and no Ned. 

The quarter past the hour chimed on the hotel 
clock and jackies on their way to the boat-landing 
began to hurry by. 

But of Ned there had been no sign. 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


231 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

A JACKIE AGAINST WOLVES. 

Ned, gliding softly as a cat stalking a mouse, 
among the trees — choosing the shady spots to 
conceal his movements — soon came within ear- 
shot of the three men in whose conversation he 
was so deeply interested. 

The moonlight, as intense as it usually is in the 
tropics, flooded the beautiful grounds of the hotel, 
making checker-work patterns of black and white 
beneath the tropical growth. 

The Pulsifers and Mr. Varian were standing 
full in the center of a moonlight flooded opening 
as the Dreadnought Boy approached them. 

“Now, see here, Varian,” the elder of the two 
Pulsifers was saying, “it’s sheer madness for a 
man in your position to refuse our offer.” 

“I confess that your knowledge of my 'posi- 
tion, ’ as you call it, puzzles me,” rejoined the in- 
ventor of the most powerful explosive known, 
quizzically. 


232 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Ned, crouching low in the dark shadow of a 
poinsettia bush, saw the inventor’s face in the 
flood of silver light, and noted that a smile of 
disdain had curled his lips. 

“Come, come, Varian,” urged the other Pulsi- 
fer, “let’s talk as men to a man. You are not 
wealthy. You have spent most of what little 
fortune you had in perfecting Chaosite, until it 
has become, as it is to-day, the most terrible de- 
structive agent known. As if this were not 
enough, you have invented a gun-breech of suffi- 
cient strength and elasticity to withstand the 
terrific pressure exerted by the gases liberated 
when a charge of your explosive is fired.” 

The inventor nodded, still in the same mocking 
manner, at the flattering tone. He blew a big 
cloud of smoke from his cigar, but said nothing. 
Obviously he was waiting for the other to go on ; 
while Pulsifer, for his part, appeared to be ex- 
pecting speech of some sort from the inventor. 
Disappointed in this, he continued. 

“You have, as I said, done all these things — 
crowned your life, I might say — if I wished to 
be florid — with a magnificent flower of achieve- 
ment, and what are you going to do with it ?” 

Pulsifer paused impressively, and came closer 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


233 


to the unmoved inventor, who stood like a figure 
of stone. 

“I say, what are you going to do with your 
achievement? Fling it away on a notoriously 
ungrateful government. Waste it on a navy 
which will not repay you a thousandth part of 
the sum we are prepared to offer? The power 
we represent is apt to become involved in war at 
any moment. The situation in Europe is, as you 
know, an extremely ticklish one. A spark in 
the powder-barrel, and ‘Woof!’ there is an ex- 
plosion !” 

“What you say may be, and undoubtedly is, 
true,” remarked Varian coolly, “but was that 
what you brought me out here to tell me? You 
told me you had important business matters to 
discuss — a proposition to make.” 

Ned's heart sank. Could it be possible that the 
inventor was contemplating the dastardly act of 
selling out his country? He listened with eager 
attention as the conversation went on. 

“Ah, now we are getting down to business,” 
smiled the elder Pulsifer amiably; “we did bring 
you out here to make a proposition to you, and 
one that we flatter ourselves will interest you 
deeply.” 


j 234 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

Varian bowed gravely, and seemed to wait for 
the other to continue. 

“If you sell out Uncle Sam, I’ll knock you down 
if it’s the last thing I do/’ muttered Ned to him- 
self, clenching his capable fist menacingly. 

“You are interested, above all things, in the 
success of the Varian type of gun — handling the 
Varian explosive, are you not?” 

The elder Pulsifer was doing the talking now. 
From his earnest manner things were evidently 
coming to a climax. 

“Why, of course, that is obvious. It has been, 
as you said, my life work. Naturally, I wish to 
see its full fruition.” 

“Exactly; and Pulsifer Brothers are going 
to help you. You have heard of Baron Von ” 

To Ned’s disappointment, the elder Pulsifer’s 
oily voice sank to a mere whisper, and the lad 
could not catch the name the gun manufacturer 
breathed. 

“Of course, he ” 

“Is at the present time in Washington. Ah, 
Mr. Varian, there is a genius. He is actually 
engaged, or reported to be — it serves his purpose 
just as well — to one of our wealthiest women, and 
yet all the time his wonderful mind is plotting, 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


235 


planning, scheming for his country. Of course, 
I tell you this under the pledge of secrecy we ex- 
acted from you before leaving the banquet hall ?” 

“That goes without saying; but you were go- 
ing to remark ?” 

“That the baron,” again the name was omit- 
ted, “came armed with letters to us, and we have 
consented to transact this business for him. I 
need scarcely tell you, after having promised 
this much — that the baron’s mission to this coun- 
try is to acquire the formula of Chaosite; and 
not only that, but to take back with him the blue- 
prints and specifications of the Varian breech- 
block and explosion-absorbing machinery, without 
which the other would be useless.” 

“The baron is here for that purpose?” 

The inventor seemed deeply interested. He 
thoughtfully inhaled long puffs of his cigar and 
expelled the smoke slowly. 

The Pulsifers were watching him narrowly, 
without seeming to do so. His attitude, it ap- 
peared, puzzled them as much as it did Ned, 
watching from his leafy bower. In the case of 
the Dreadnought Boy, however, his mind was 
practically made up. Varian was prepared to 
sell his secret to a foreign power — possibly for 


236 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


use against his own country. He was, or so Ned 
judged the situation, only awaiting the naming 
of a price. 

“Yes, Mr. Varian, I will not conceal anything 
from you. We will be perfectly frank,” went on 
Pulsifer. “The baron is here solely for that 
purpose, cleverly as he has masked the object of 
his visit. He has declared through the papers 
that he is here to study our society and write a 
book about it. I need scarcely add that the hu- 
morous interviews with him printed in the New 
York dailies — which have made him appear in a 
clownish light — have aided his plans tremen- 
dously.” 

“How long has this — this — baron been here?” 

“Oh, but a short time. But, as you will have 
gathered, he has not let the grass grow under 
his feet.” 

“So it would seem,” agreed Varian, with a 
curious, dry intonation. 

“As I was about to say, Mr. Varian, the gov- 
ernment he represents is a power of the first 
class. It has unlimited money at its control. The 
financial resources at its command are unques- 
tioned. The war into which it may shortly be 
plunged will undermine its credit, its home pres- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 237 

tige and its colonial power if it is not brought to a 
successful conclusion. To win that war, which 
will be largely an affair of naval engagements, 
it will spare no expense to acquire the tools of 
victory. The baron, and we also, regard the 
Varian gun and Chaosite as an unbeatable com- 
bination. At the trials at the Sandy Hook prov- 
ing grounds, the gun ” 

“But the trials were secret,” protested the 
inventor. 

“Money will open any door,” suavely rejoined 
the elder Pulsifer; “it is to our interest to keep 
abreast of the times; therefore, we made it our 
business to acquire — I need not insult your intelli- 
gence by saying by what means — a complete rec- 
ord of the three-day tests.” 

“Your enterprise is only equalled by your re- 
sourcefulness,” remarked the inventor. Again 
Ned noted in his voice that queer, dry intonation, 
as if he were trying to mask some other feeling. 

“Oh, yes,” smiled the elder Pulsifer greasily, 
“we are very enterprising, Mr. Varian.” 

He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a paper. 

“Let me read you some of the gun’s perform- 
ances, and you can judge if I am speaking the 
truth or not On Monday, April the 25th, target 


238 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

at two miles, wind thirty miles, weather clear: 
The first shot at nine forty-five scored a bulls- 
eye; but, the charge being light, three hundred 
pounds only, the projectile did not ” 

“Enough,” snapped the inventor. “I see that 
you had some one there. It is getting late, gen- 
tlemen, and if you will come to the point, I shall 
feel vastly obliged.” 

“Ah,” exclaimed the elder Pulsifer, rubbing his 
bediamonded hands till they flashed and sparkled 
in the moonlight, “you are as anxious as we to 
conclude the negotiations. Well, to put the mat- 
ter in a nutshell, Mr. Varian, we are authorized 
by the baron to offer you ” 

Ned’s heart beat so loud and fast that he half- 
unconsciously placed his hand over it, as if he 
could in that way dull its sound. 

“Five hundred thousand dollars for the plans, 
specifications and formula.” 

“Five hundred thousand, why, gentlemen, 
I ” 

“And a royalty which can be arranged later 
to suit your own terms,” the younger Pulsifer 
hastened to add. 

“Look out, Hank Varian,” Ned muttered to 
himself, as the inventor hesitated, or seemed to, 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


239 


“you are nearer getting a punch on your nose 
right now than you ever were before, you double- 
dyed traitor.” 

“It is a very generous offer,” rejoined the in- 
ventor, “but ” 

Again the Pulsifers interrupted him. 

“We are authorized, I may say,” added the 
elder one, “to make the sum eight hundred thou- 
sand ” 

“Or more,” put in his younger brother. 

“Eight hundred thousand dollars,” mused the 
inventor in a quiet tone; “why, the government 
you act for must be made of money.” 

“They are generous when they have determined 
to get a thing,” smiled the elder Pulsifer, “and 
they have determined to get the Varian inven- 
tions. After all, you see, you can withdraw grace- 
fully from negotiations with Washington. Noth- 
ing has been actually accomplished yet, and as 
matters have only reached an experimental stage 
nobody is compromised.” 

“See here, gentlemen,” asked Varian suddenly, 
as if his mind had been fixed on this question all 
the time Pulsifer had been speaking, “how much 
money has this government got to spend in cold 
cash?” 


240 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


“Why, my dear sir, what a question ” 

“Answer me!” 

“Well, if you must know — though it is wholly 
foreign to our discussion — I suppose they could 
raise a war fund to-morrow of seventy million 
dollars, to be raised by loans to a billion dollars 
and a half. ,, 

“They could do all this in two days?” 

“Undoubtedly.” 

“Well, you go back to your baron and tell him 
that if his government worked for ninety days 
and raised ninety times ninety millions they 
would still be a million miles away from buying 
Henry Varian to betray his government !” 

“You are insane!” 

The elder Pulsifer’s fat face quivered, while 
his brother’s already red visage deepened in color 
to an angry crimson. 

“No; not insane, gentlemen,” quietly replied 
the inventor. “It is you who must be that for 
imagining for a moment that I would set a price 
for selling out Uncle Sam.” 

“Hurray!” breathed Ned from behind his bush; 
“it’s the Pulsifers I’m aching, twitching, dying 
to get a slam at now.” 

“So, then, you have been trying to draw us 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


241 


out!” shouted the elder Pulsifer, beside himself 
with fury at the unexpected turn of affairs. “You 
have led us on, you cur, you sneak, you hound, 
you ” 

Smack ! 

The inventor s palm shot out and struck Pulsi- 
fer’s fat face a stinging blow. In the moonlight 
Ned could see a dark, angry patch appear where 
it had struck. 

The younger Pulsifer made a leap for the in- 
ventor as the blow resounded. The Dreadnought 
Boy saw something glitter in his hand as he 
leaped forward. 

It was a revolver that the would-be briber had 
drawn. 

At the same instant, and just as Ned was about 
to spring forward, the elder man drew from his 
coat-tail pocket a silver whistle. He placed it 
to his lips and blew a shrill blast. 

Simultaneously four dark forms leaped from 
behind a sort of summer-house shrouded in creep- 
ers, and flung themselves on the inventor. 

They bore him to the ground, as the Dread- 
nought Boy, with a loud shout of : 

“Stand clear!” dashed from his place of con- 
cealment 


242 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

IN THE PUESIFERS’ HANDS. 

Sinewy and well-muscled as he was, Ned real- 
ized a moment later that he was in for such a 
battle against odds as he had never fought be- 
fore. Hardly had he made his unexpected ap- 
pearance and bowled the astonished younger Pul- 
sifer over with a well-directed blow of his fist, 
before one of the quartet that had downed Mr. 
Varian sprang upon the lad and gripped him in 
a strong-armed embrace. 

As they swayed back and forth, Ned saw the 
fellow’s features as the two emerged into a patch 
of moonlight. His astonishment almost caused 
him to lose his advantageous grip. 

“Hank Harkins!” he gasped. 

“Yes, Hank Harkins; and this is the time I 
even up old scores,” grated the other, through his 
close-set teeth. 

“Not while I’ve got two arms,” grunted Ned, 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


243 


striving to overset the other. But, as he felt 
Hank’s body bend back and his sinews crack, two 
of the other men flung themselves on the Dread- 
nought Boy from behind. A few brief seconds 
later, Ned, borne down by overwhelming num- 
bers, was a prisoner. 

Even as he fell he recognized the two who 
had come to Hank’s aid as Carl Schultz and 
Ralph Kennell. 

“This is the kind of work I should have ex- 
pected to find you taking part in,” sneered Ned, 
as he lay on his back, his arms and legs pinioned 
by Hank and Carl Schultz and Kennell’s evil face 
glaring down into his. 

“It’s the kind of work you’ll have no reason to 
like,” grinned Hank meaningly. “I fancy that 
we’ll be able to even up things now.” 

Ned disdained to answer the fellow, and re- 
turned his threats with a stare of cold contempt. 
The next instant he set up a shout, which was in- 
stantly choked back by a rough hand on his 
throat. Kennell it was who had compressed the 
Dreadnought Boy’s windpipe till breathing be- 
came painful. 

“Your handkerchief — quick!” Kennell ordered 
Schultz. 


244 THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 

The graceful Schultz brought out a scented 
piece of linen. 

“Now, younker, open your mouth again,” or- 
dered Kennell, taking his hand from Ned's 
throat. 

Ned set his teeth firmly, however. Kennell, 
beside himself with fury, struck him a cowardly 
blow across the face with his clenched fist. Still 
Ned's mouth was locked. 

The blue- jacket, seeing that it would take too 
long to force Ned's lips open in that way, then 
seized hold of the lad's nose, compressing the nos- 
trils. In a short time Ned was compelled to open 
his mouth to breathe and the handkerchief was 
then thrust in between his teeth, making an ef- 
fectual gag. 

The Dreadnought Boy was then rudely yanked 
to his feet. As he stood upright, he noticed a 
faint, sickly smell in the air. 

Chloroform ! 

The inventor's figure, white-faced and out- 
stretched as though in a deep sleep, lay a few 
paces away. His stupor showed to what purpose 
the drug had been put. 

“He’ll give us no more bother,” grinned Pul- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


245 


sifer, nodding in the direction of the recumbent 
inventor, over whom the scowling Silas stood 
guard. 

“Got any left for the kid, if he gets mussy?” 
inquired Kennell. 

“No, confound it,” muttered the younger Pulsi- 
fer ; “the stuff upset and spilled on the grass.” 

“I should say it did. The place smells like a 
medical college,” commented Kennell. “Now, 
guv’nor, where’s the gasoline gig?” 

“Two of you fellows pick up Varian,” ordered 
Pulsifer, “and follow me. Kennell, you take care 
of the boy — wherever he came from. Tie his 
hands. The rig is right outside the rear gate of 
the grounds.” 

Ned, helpless as he was, had no recourse but 
to obey Kennell’s rough order to “Look alive.” 
In the meantime the traitorous Silas roped the 
lad’s hands. In a few minutes they reached the 
back gate. Outside it stood a powerful touring 
car. 

There was a lamp on the rear gate, and Pulsi- 
fer, as he went by, reached up to turn it out. 

“The less light we have, the better. No know- 
ing who is skulking around,” he remarked. As 


246 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

he straightened up to reach the lamp, however, 
his eyes fell on Ned, whose face was illumined 
momentarily by the light. 

Pulsifer gave an exclamation of delight. 

“Look who's here, Dave,” he cried exultingly; 
“little Johnny Fixit. Don't you remember him?” 

“Why,” exclaimed the elder Pulsifer, “that's 
one of the rowdy kids who tried to get us out of 
our seats on the subway.” 

“Tried to,” thought Ned; “I guess we came 
pretty near doing it.” 

“Oh, this is luck,” grinned the younger Pulsi- 
fer ; “talk about killing two birds with one stone. 
We'll attend to you, my young friend — you dirty 
young spy. We'll put you where what you over- 
heard to-night will do you no more good than — 
this.” 

He stepped lightly forward and deliberately 
struck the Dreadnought Boy an open-handed slap 
on the cheek. 

Ned's hands struggled with the rope that Ken- 
nell had twisted about his wrists. He palpitated, 
ached, and longed with a superhuman intensity, 
to get at the younger Pulsifer, and beat his sneer- 
ing face into an unrecognizable mass. It was a 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 247 

lucky thing for that young man that Kennell 
had tied his knots with sailor-like thoroughness. 
In a few minutes — by the time they had been 
bundled into the tonneau of the machine, in fact 
— Ned was once more calm. He recognized the 
stern necessity for keeping absolutely cool. 

On the seat beside him in the tonneau lay 
the senseless form of the inventor. As a guard, 
Kennell, Schultz and Hank were seated also in 
that part of the car. Dave Pulsifer took the 
wheel and his brother sat at his side. Silas, the 
heavy-browed, occupied the small extension-seat 
at the elder Pulsifer's side. 

With the engine muffled down, till it made 
scarcely any noise, the car glided off into the 
night, leaving behind it what Ned could not help 
feeling was the last hope of rescue. 

As the wheels began to revolve, Dave Pulsifer 
leaned back, and, with one hand, extended to 
Kennell a revolver. 

“If our guests should object to our little sur- 
prise party and moonlight ride, just give them 
a leaden pill,” he suggested pleasantly. 

“Say, guv’nor, it would be pretty dangerous 
firing off a gun at this time of night, wouldn't 


248 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

it? It might bring the alligator-zills, or what- 
ever they call these Cuban cops, about our ears, 
mightn’t it?” 

The younger Pulsifer laughed lightly. 

“No danger of that,” he said. “In ten minutes 
now we’ll be out in a desolate part of the coun- 
try, inhabited only by a few cattle-grazers, and 
they’ve got too much horse-sense to inquire into 
a casual shot. So don’t hesitate to pepper away 
if our guests get obstreperous.” 

A few minutes later the car began to bound 
forward, the elder Pulsifer “opening her up,” as 
they drew out of the few scattered huts on the 
outskirts of the town. They emerged into an 
arid, stony region, fringed with low, barren hills, 
clothed with scanty vegetation. Huge cacti stood 
up weirdly, like tombstones in the moonlight, 
and a few half-starved cattle plunged off to both 
sides of the track as the car sped along. 

So far as one of the prisoners becoming ob- 
streperous was concerned, there was no danger, 
or immediate danger, at any rate. Henry Varian 
lay like one dead, with his face of a marble white- 
ness, in the cold moonlight. 

“Say, the guv’nor must have given him a pretty 
heavy dose,” muttered Kennell, bending over the 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


249 


inventor and feeling his heart. “I hope he hasn't 
overdone it.” 

“What’s the difference?” inquired the soft- 
voiced Carl, in a casual way. “We find plendy of 
places alretty vere ve get rid off him if he dond 
come back.” 

“I don’t know. I don’t care much about tak- 
ing such chances,” muttered Kennell; “killing a 
man is bad business. I should think you and Silas 
would realize that, after your escape ” 

“Hush! der boy hear!” warned Schultz, hold- 
ing up a thin, white hand. 

Kennell subsided with a growl of “what’s the 
difference,” but said no more, to Ned’s intense 
disappointment. 

It was no trick of their eyesight, then, when 
the two Dreadnought Boys had recognized in the 
two pictured convicts, at the biograph exhibition, 
their two dastardly shipmates. Moreover, it 
seemed, from what Kennell had let drop, that 
both men were jail-breakers. Revolving this in 
his mind, Ned saw the cunningness of the two 
men’s movements, if they had actually escaped 
from Joliet. What less likely place to find an es- 
caped prisoner than in the United States navy? 
They must have forged papers of recommenda- 


250 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

tion and character, and thus tricked the careful 
authorities. In fact. Ned learned later that this 
was the case. 

On and on droned the car, speeding through 
the same monotonous moonlit wastes of hills and 
scrub-grass — with here and there the gaunt form 
of a tall royal palm — as it had encountered on 
leaving the scattered outskirts of the town. All 
the time Ned had been working feverishly, but 
quietly, at his bonds, and now he began to feel 
what at first he scarcely dared believe — the ropes 
were becoming slightly loosened. In ten minutes 
more he had stretched the new rope, of which the 
thongs were made, till he could slip them off by 
dint of rubbing them against the cushion at his 
back. 

His mind was made up as to what he would 
do the instant he found himself at liberty to make 
his escape. He would drop from the car and 
trust to luck to get away. The surface of the 
hills was rough and creased with numerous deep 
gullies. If he could get into one of these, it 
would be impossible for the auto to follow, and 
on foot — well, Ned had a few records for sprint- 
ing behind him, and he was confident he could 
outdistance any one of the occupants of the car. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


251 


He looked about him. The car was at this 
moment passing quite near to one of the arroyos 
— as they are called in our West — that Ned had 
noted. Kennell, his eyes half-closed, was hunched 
in a doze, the pistol in his lap. Carl Schultz 
and Hank Harkins were talking in low tones. 
Not a single one of them was watching the 
Dreadnought Boy. 

The moment to carry out his plan, if he was to 
put it into execution at all, had arrived. 

With a quick move, Ned slipped off his thongs, 
and sprang to his feet. 

Before any one of the occupants of the ton- 
neau knew what was happening he was out 
of the auto and sprinting, as he had never 
sprinted before for the friendly darkness of the 
gully. 

Angry shouts instantly broke out. The gully 
seemed farther than Ned had judged. 

He had gained its edge, and, with a grateful 
prayer, was about to slide over into security, 
when he felt a sharp twinge in his right calf. 
At the same moment he heard the sharp crack of 
a revolver behind him. 

Nobody had ever accused Kennell of being a 
bad shot, and he had aimed true this time. 


252 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Ned doubled up. 

He was halted by unbearable pain. In an- 
other instant his pursuers had seized him with 
exulting cries. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


253 


CHAPTER XXV. 
three; minutes oe riee. 

Before the first sharp sting of the wound that 
had halted the Dreadnought Boy had subsided, 
Ned found himself once more a prisoner. He 
had torn the gag from his mouth as he ran; but 
he made no effort to shout, knowing that it would 
do no good in that desolate region. He calmly 
submitted to being rebound, this time his legs 
also being tied tightly. 

“We’ll take no further chances with you, my 
young rooster,” commented Kennell, as he made 
a double half-hitch on Ned’s leg thongs; “but you 
were a greeny to think you could get away as 
long as Ralph Kennell could hold a gun.” 

Although the wound in his leg gave him acute 
pain, Ned was pretty sure it was only a flesh one, 
and had not shattered the bone; for which he 
felt thankful. Ned was made of that kind of 
stuff that never gives up hope, and, even in the 
desperate position in which he now was, he yet 


254 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


decided to make the best of it and watch for any 
chance that might present itself to extricate him- 
self. 

“Come on, come on,” growled the elder Pulsi- 
fer, as Ned was once more hustled roughly into 
the tonneau of the machine. “We can’t waste all 
night on that cub. Silas and Carl told us that 
you were a good fast worker. We’re not paying 
you to take all night over it.” 

“All right, guv’nor; keep your shirt on,” re- 
joined Kennell; “let her rip. We’ve got him hog- 
tied now, all right.” 

Not long after, the auto shot into a dark, 
shadowed canon, which seemed to bisect the 
range of rugged hills, and came to a halt on the 
other side. The stop was made before a small 
house, built in the native style, in front of which 
stood a row of royal palms. 

“Home, sweet home,” grinned Kennell, with 
grim humor; “come on, younker, pile out, there.” 

Ned almost yelled with pain as he straightened 
up on his injured leg, and Kennell, noticing him 
wince, gave a loud, brutal laugh. 

“Hamstrung, by the great bow-gun!” he ex- 
claimed. “I guess you’ll give us no more 
trouble.” 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE <155 

To Ned's relief, for he had almost begun to 
share Kennell's belief that Varian had been over- 
drugged, the inventor had opened his eyes a few 
moments before they reached the hut, and mur- 
mured feebly. His words lacked sense, however, 
under the influence of the drug as he still was. 

“Bring them both into the front room," or- 
dered the elder Pulsifer, as he climbed down from 
the driver's seat. 

The “front room," it transpired, was a sparsely 
furnished apartment, containing a table and two 
or three chairs, and nothing else. The floors 
were bare and of polished wood after the man- 
ner of the country. Ned guessed that the place 
was occupied only temporarily by the Pulsifers 
as a quiet spot in which they could meet their 
agents, secure from outside observation. The 
fact that they had brought an auto to this part of 
Cuba, where horses are mostly used, lent color 
to this supposition. 

Dave Pulsifer's first act was to light a lamp, 
which he placed on the table; his second, to ig- 
nite a cigar, and his next to ofifer a chair to the 
white and shaky inventor. 

“Sit down, Varian," he said. “We don't wish 
to injure you, or hurt you unless we have to; 


256 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

but, as you wouldn’t talk business over quietly,' 
we have had to adopt these means of bringing 
you to terms.” 

Glad enough of a chance to rest, Mr. Varian 
slipped wearily into the offered chair. Ned was 
shoved along by Kennell till he stood behind the 
inventor with Kennell close at his elbow. Since 
his frustrated escape, the wretches who held him 
captive were taking no chances of another run- 
away. 

Schultz, Silas, and Hank Harkins stood behind 
the younger Pulsifer, who had now joined his 
brother at the opposite side of the table to that at 
which Mr. Varian’s chair had been placed. Be- 
fore the younger of the worthy pair of brothers 
lay a revolver convenient to his hand. As he 
regarded Mr. Varian intently, his jeweled fingers 
played with its butt suggestively. 

The inventor made no reply to the elder Pulsi- 
fer’s remarks, and the foreign agent — as he now 
stood revealed — continued in a sharp tone. This 
time he came right to the point. 

“Varian, we need not beat about the bush 
now. We want those plans and the formula.” 

“I have not got them,” replied the inventor, in 
a low, shaky voice. 


ON BATTLE PKACTICE 257 

“You Her 

It was a sure indication of Mr. Varian’s piti- 
able condition that he made no move or spoke 
no word at the insult. 

“You searched my pockets before you forced 
that stuff over my face,” he breathed. “You 
know that I have not got them.” 

“Again I say you lie. You were consulting 
with Captain Dunham, of the Dreadnought Man- 
hattan , earlier this evening. You were seen to 
show him the papers, and explain some of the 
points of the test which is to be made of your 
gun shortly. Come, we don’t want to be unnec- 
essarily rough with you. Are you going to give 
the papers up?” 

“No!” 

The answer snapped out like the crack of a 
whip. 

Ned noted with satisfaction that the inven- 
tor’s former fire and decision seemed to be re- 
turning. 

“Then we must search you. Men ” 

The elder Pulsifer pointed to the inventor, 
while the younger covered him with the revolver. 
One of the latter’s bediamonded fingers was 
crooked on the trigger as if he longed to pull it 


258 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

Instantly Carl Schultz, Silas and Hank, who 
had all three started forward at the command, 
seized and held Mr. Varian tightly, while the 
younger Pulsifer, still with his revolver in hand, 
tapped the inventor’s coat to find the hiding-place 
of the papers. 

“Ah!” he exclaimed suddenly, with a cry of 
triumph. A crisp, crackling sound had rewarded 
his search. 

An instant later, from a secret pocket in the 
inventor’s coat, he had drawn forth a flat bundle 
of papers. The two Pulsifers, their eyes shining 
greedily, scanned them closely beneath the lamp, 
and then uttered what was a perfect howl of baf- 
fled rage. 

The blueprints of the breech-block, without 
which the gun would be useless and the formula 
so much waste-paper, were not there. 

“Look here, Varian,” snarled the elder Pulsi- 
fer, “we’ve been pretty lenient with you, so far. 
We intend to be so no longer. Where are those 
blueprints ?” 

“Where you will never get them,” bravely re- 
plied the inventor. 

“You are overconfident, my friend,” sneered 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


259 


the elder Pulsifier. “We not only will get them, 
but by your own lips you will tell us where to go 
to acquire them.” 

If the faces of the Pulsifers had borne an evil 
look before, they became as avid as those of 
vultures now. 

The inventor, who was fast overcoming the 
effects of the drug, folded his arms defiantly, 
his captors having released him when the search 
was given up by the younger Pulsifer. 

“Bind him!” 

The command was snapped out by the elder 
of the brothers. 

Instantly the three hired rascals who had held 
him before pounced on the inventor, and roped 
him tightly in the chair. 

Resistance was useless, and the inventor sub- 
mitted to the ordeal with an unflinching counte- 
nance. 

“Now, then, Varian, have you changed your 
mind?” 

“Not yet; and I never shall if you wish to 
know, Dave Pulsifer.” 

“Very well. We have tried fair means, now 
we’ll adopt other tactics.” 


260 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


The Pulsifers whispered together a few min- 
utes, and then the younger brother left the room. 

He returned with a fair-sized keg, which 
seemed to be heavy. This he placed in a corner 
of the room. 

“What on earth are they going to do?” Ned 
wondered to himself. 

He was not to be left long in doubt. 

The younger Pulsifer’s next move was to open 
a cupboard in one corner of the room and pro- 
duce a short length of candle. 

He eyed this critically and then produced a 
silver match-box. 

A tense silence hung over the room, as the 
flabby-faced Pulsifer moved about making these 
preparations. Both Mr. Varian and Ned eyed 
him with close attention. They felt that some- 
how or other, incomprehensible as these prepara- 
tions were, that they boded no good to them- 
selves. 

The younger Pulsifer lit the candle and then 
turned to the two captives with a smile. 

“This candle will burn, roughly speaking, for 
five minutes,” he said. “I am going to place it 
in this barrel of powder. The stuff is not as 
powerful as Chaosite, but it will serve the pur- 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


261 


pose,” he added, with a side glance at the in- 
ventor. 

As he spoke, the wretch ripped off the wooden 
heading of the barrel, which had already been 
loosened, and placed the candle upright on its 
contents. 

This done, he once more turned to the in- 
ventor. 

“Now, will you tell us where those blueprints 
are, and give us an order for them ?” he snarled. 

“Not in the longest day you ever lived,” re- 
plied the inventor firmly. 

“Good for you,” shouted Ned; “if we are to go 
to the bottom we'll go down with colors flying, 
Mr. Varian.” 

“That's right, my boy; spoken like a true jackie 
of Uncle Sam,” said the inventor approvingly. 

“Very fine, heroic and melodramatic,” sneered 
Dave Pulsifer, “but think a moment, Henry Va- 
rian. That candle is getting shorter. In a few 
seconds we shall withdraw, not wishing to be 
present at the final act of the tragedy. Think of 
your wife and children ” 

This time the inventor groaned, but an instant 
later recovered himself. 

“I would rather leave them the memory of a 


262 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


loyal citizen and American, than give them the 
companionship of a coward and a traitor,” he re- 
plied. 

“More heroics; really, Varian, if you were go- 
ing to live, you might tackle a melodrama with 
good success. Come on, boys. Two minutes of 
time are up. In three minutes more this place 
and those in it will be blown to pieces. Good- 
night and — good-by, Varian, and you too, you 
spying, sneaking, informing cub. If you relent, 
Varian, shout loud, and we shall hear you.” 

With this bitter fling at the Dreadnought Boy, 
the Pulsifers and their evil companions with- 
drew, Hank Harkins pausing at the door to re- 
mark: 

“I guess I’m on top now, Ned Strong.” 

Ned disdained to reply, but, instead, as the 
door closed behind the men who had planned such 
a refinement of cruelty, he fixed his eyes on the 
candle in the barrel. Pulsifer had taken the lamp 
when he and the others withdrew. The light of 
the waxen illuminant, that was rapidly growing 
shorter and nearer to the powder, was the only 
radiance in the room. 

“In three minutes,” Pulsifer had said. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


263 


Ned’s eyes regarded the flickering candle with 
a look of despair. 

It grew lower and flickered. One more such 
wavering of its steady flame and the end must 
come. 


264 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A BLUFF CALLED. 

Ned cast his eyes despairingly this way and 
that, in the hope of spying something that might 
promise even a faint hope of salvation. 

“Ned,” it was the inventor’s voice; but it soun- 
ded faint and far off, “shall I call out?” 

“And betray your trust — no, sir !” 

“Thank you; I thought you would say that. 
There is no chance of our getting away?” 

“Not a loophole that I can see, sir.” 

“So be it. The explosion must come in a few 
seconds now, and all will be over.” 

The inventor bowed his head. Ned’s brain 
worked as it had never worked before, but, think 
as he would, he could not contrive any avenue of 
escape. “If only I could work these ropes loose; 
if only they’d left the lamp — I’d have risked 
knocking it over and burning them off. If 
only ” 

The boy came to a sudden stop. 


ON BATTLE PBACTICE 


265 


On the floor by the table he had espied a small, 
gleaming point of fire — the burning stub of a 
cigar, carelessly thrown aside by one of the Pul- 
sifers. They smoked only the best of cigars and 
the weed burned red and strong. 

To Ned its spark rekindled hope. 

That tiny glow meant perhaps life and free- 
dom. 

Without an instant’s delay, he threw himself 
on the floor, for, bound as he was, he could not 
bend or move. Otherwise he would have taken 
a chance on burning through his thongs at the 
candle in the powder keg. 

The Dreadnought Boy rolled himself toward 
the burning cigar butt. Mr. Varian watched 
him wonderingly, but made no comment. He 
realized that the boy had found what he thought 
was a way of escape. 

Ned placed his mouth alongside the cigar, and 
after some difficulty got it between his teeth. He 
took a few sharp puffs, as he had seen smokers 
do, although the rank taste of the tobacco sick- 
ened him. It was Ned’s first and last smoke. 

With the end of the cigar now blazing redly, 
he was ready for the next step. Dropping the 
“weed,” he wriggled along the floor till he had 


266 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

brought his bound wrists up to the red end. 
Then he pressed the rope down on the glowing 
tobacco, with a silent prayer that he might be in 
time. 

A smell of burning rope filled the air. 

A second later Ned Strong, his hands free, 
uttered a low cry of triumph. 

He had won the first step of the desperate 
fight for liberty. 

Rapidly, with his freed hands, he felt in his 
pockets. His captors had forgotten — or, as was 
more probable, had not deemed it worth while — 
to search him. His jackknife was in his pocket. 
To sever his leg bonds was the work of two 
quick slashes. In his excitement the pain of his 
leg was forgotten. All that the Dreadnought 
Boy knew was that he had a fighting chance. 

Hastily he stepped up to the powder barrel 
and prepared to pluck out the candle. This was 
risky work. Not only might the Pulsifers or 
some of their gang be on the lookout, but he 
might, in his haste, spill a spark which would 
blow both himself and the inventor sky high. 

As he reached the side of the keg, however, 
Ned’s first utterance was a gasp of surprise and 
then a low laugh. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


267 


“Bluffed !” 

The exclamation came sharply as he plucked 
out the candle and threw it to the floor. Luckily 
it did not go out, for the next instant he realized 
that he would have to use its light. 

Hastily he made his way to the inventoffs 
side. A few quick slashes of the knife, and Mr. 
Varian stood free, words of gratitude on his lips 
and a light of admiration in his eyes. 

Ned hastily checked the other’s words. 

“Time for action now, sir,” he said briskly. 
“Can you run an auto?” 

“Can you tie a running bowline?” smiled the 
inventor, who now seemed as cool as ice. 

Ned grinned appreciatively. 

If all went well, the next step of his hastily 
contrived plan of escape could be carried out. 

“One moment, sir,” begged Ned, as the in- 
ventor whispered: “What next?” 

The boy was over at the side of the keg and 
rummaging there, it seemed. 

“For Heaven’s sake, don’t waste time on that, 
my lad,” urged the inventor. “Let us make 
a dash for it. Those men may be near at 
hand.” 

“All in good time, sir; but I want to cinch 


268 THE DEE ADN OUGHT BOYS 

these rascals if we can and cinch them good and 
tight !” 

“But why waste time on that powder barrel ?” 

“Powder barrel nothing I mean, it’s not 

a powder barrel, sir.” 

“What?” . 

“That’s right. Look here !” 

Ned held up a handful of papers which he had 
extracted from the keg. 

“When I said 'bluffed’ just now, that’s what I 
meant. But, Mr. Varian, we’ve called their bluff 
with these!” 

“These” were papers which seemed to be maps 
of different places carefully marked and figured, 
and other diagrams of different kinds. 

“What are they?” 

“As well as I can see, sir, material to forge 
steel chains on those rascals who brought us 
here. They appear to be plans of United States 
ports and details of our harbor defenses. But 
we’ve no time to look them over now. Come, 
sir!” 

The lad stuffed the papers in his blouse. 

He had noticed with his keen eyes that few 
things escaped, that the Pulsifers had not locked 
the front door when they entered their hut. He 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 269 

now flung it open, and, a second later, he and 
the inventor stood under the open starlight, their 
hearts leaping excitedly. 

In front of the door, a dark shadow in the 
gloom that had set in following the sinking of 
the moon, was the automobile. 

A little gasoline, and more than a little good 
luck, was all that lay between them and safety. 

“Crank her up, sir. I’ll stand guard here/’ 
breathed Ned. 

The inventor bent over the front of the ma- 
chine and jerked the cranking handle over. 
There was no explosion. 

Again he turned it, without result. 

“We’ll have to hurry, sir, or else run for it,” 
warned Ned. “Hark!” 

Inside the house they could hear trampling of 
feet. 

Evidently Pulsifer and his brother had de- 
cided that their “bluff” would have burned itself 
out by this time, and were returning to the room 
in which they confidently supposed their helpless 
victims were lying in agony of mind. 

“We’ll have to try them another way, since 
they have withstood the ordeal of powder,” Ned 
heard the elder Pulsifer’s heavy voice boom out, 


270 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

half-amusedly, as the inner door of the room 
banged open. 

At the same instant there came a low “chug” 
from the motor. 

“Speed up that spark,” ordered the laboring 
inventor. “No, not that lever. There, that little 
attachment on the wheel. That’s it.” 

Chug-chug-chug ! 

“Hurray! that did the trick!” shouted Mr. 
Varian, forgetting his dignity in the excitement 
of the moment. 

As he spoke, from inside the house they heard, 
above the roar of the now awakened motor, the 
shouts of dismay with which Pulsifer and his 
mercenaries greeted their discovery that their 
“birds had flown.” 

“They can’t be far off!” Ned heard the heavy 
voice boom out. “Scatter, boys! After them! 
One hundred dollars to the lad who bags the first 
one!” 

The front door burst open and out rushed the 
men who a few minutes ago had been so confi- 
dent of bluffing out one of Uncle Sam’s sailors 
and one of his brainiest citizens. 

“There they are!” yelled Pulsifer, as his eyes 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


271 


lit on the two figures as they lightly swung into 
the auto. “Don’t let them get away! Five hun- 
dred dollars if you stop them !” 

“Shoot ’em down!” bawled the shrill tones of 
Schultz. 

As the inventor opened up the motor and 
threw in the clutch several dark figures leaped 
in front of the machine, and one jumped on to 
the seat beside Ned. 

This last figure — it was that of Kennell — 
raised a knife high and then brought it down 
with a vicious swoop. The blade seemed to 
strike full at Ned’s heart. 

The inventor gave a cry of dismay. 

But at the same instant, like a thing instinct 
with life, the car leaped forward. 

“Stand from under!” bawled the inventor, as 
he threw in the third-speed clutch. 

Ned saw the figures of Schultz and Hank Har- 
kins flung aside by the wheels and go rolling 
down the steep hillside. At the same time he 
drew back his fist and sent it crashing into Ken- 
nell’s face. The knife fell clattering twenty feet 
away, as the treacherous bluejacket, with a howl 
of alarm, fell backward. 


272 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

“Take that from Here Taylor!” shouted Ned. 

Forward into the darkness plunged the car, 
leaping and rolling over the rough road. 

“Hurt, Ned?” 

It was the inventor speaking. His voice was 
anxious. Already the shouts and cries behind 
them were dying out. 

“No, sir, why?” 

“That blow with the knife. I thought it 
would have killed you.” 

“Well, it might have, sir, but for this. I car- 
ried it for a luck piece, and I guess it’s earned 
its name!” 

The Dreadnought Boy held up a tiny silver 
coin. It had a big dent in it, where Kennelhs 
blade had been turned. 

It was old Zack's parting present, the Can- 
adian dime. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


273 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

A STRANGS RETURN. 

“You say Seaman Strong made his way after 
the men you suspected, and that was the last you 
saw of him?” 

Rear-Admiral Gibbons, Captain Dunham and 
several other officers were seated in a room on 
the lower floor of the hotel at which the banquet 
that had ended so disastrously for the inventor, 
Varian, had taken place. 

Here shifted uneasily on his feet. He felt 
alarmed before this glittering court of inquiry 
that had convened as soon as it became apparent 
that the absence of Henry Varian, discovered 
shortly before midnight, was no mere accident. 

“Yes, sir,” he replied to Captain Dunham, who 
had put the question. 

“Can it be possible that the man Strong was in 
league with the miscreants? The circumstances 
seem very suspicious,” put in the rear-admiral. 

“I think, sir,” said Captain Dunham, “that we 


274 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


shall find, when the mysterious affair is sifted, 
that young Strong acted the part of a United 
States sailor in the matter. I have kept a care- 
ful eye on him, and should be loath to believe 
him anything else than an upright, honest young 
fellow of uncommon capability.” 

“Good for you,” thought Here to himself. 

“And what were you doing all this time?” 
inquired one of the officers of the embarrassed 
witness. 

“Picking stickers out of myself, sir.” 

“What! Be careful, young man; this is no 
time for levity.” 

“Well, sir, I guess if you had fallen into a 
tack-tus bush you’d have been picking those vege- 
table tenpenny nails out of your system for a 
while, too,” replied Here in an aggrieved tone, 
while suspicious twitches appeared about the cor- 
ners of the mouths of several of the assembly. 
Rear-Admiral Gibbons got up and gazed out of 
the window for a moment to conceal his smiles 
at the naive rejoinder of the red-headed youth. 

Suddenly he turned, with a sharp exclama- 
tion. 

“Gentlemen,” he exclaimed, “here comes the 
automobile, or one just like it, that those two 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


275 


precious rascals, the Pulsifers, used. I’ve seen 
it before. As it was the only one in Guanta- 
namo, I remarked it especially.” 

The officers crowded to the window, and Here 
would have joined them, but a marine barred 
his way. 

“Get back, young feller,” he warned, sugges- 
tively pointing his bayonet. 

“Huh! I guess you never had a friend in 
trouble,” grunted Here, going back to his wit- 
ness chair in high dudgeon. 

But the auto, instead of coming up to the hotel, 
turned off two blocks below. 

“Possibly I was mistaken/’ said the admiral. 
“Those two figures in it didn’t look like the two 
scoundrels, but at the distance it is impossible to 
tell.” 

“In any event, sir, they cannot escape from 
Cuba,” spoke up one of the officers. “Every port 
has been telegraphed. Their capture is almost 
certain.” 

This was indeed the case. An investigation 
of the garden had shown clear indications of the 
struggle that had taken place there the night 
before, and servants had been discovered who 
had seen the inventor issuing into the garden 


276 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

with the unsavory Pulsifers. The odor of chloro- 
form still clinging to the grass decided the mat- 
ter, and completed the chain of circumstantial 
evidence. Here, too, had been able to supple- 
ment the mute testimony by his story of the con- 
vict film and the names of the conspirators. Al- 
ready a launch full of marines had been sent to 
Boco del Toros to intercept the yacht Carl and 
Silas had mentioned in the lad’s hearing. 

This much having been done, a code message 
had been sent to the secretary of the navy, who 
had at once ordered every port in Cuba watched, 
and detailed secret service men in the United 
States to special duty to apprehend the Pulsifers 
if they attempted to land in America. 

The examination of Here, who was, of course, 
the principal witness, went on. 

At its conclusion an officer of the Illinois 
begged permission to ask one more question. 

“My man, did you or your friend talk over 
this step of his?” 

“Not any more than I have told you, sir,” re- 
joined Here, somewhat puzzled. 

“I submit, sir,” remarked the officer, turning 
to the rear-admiral, “this looks somewhat as if 
the lad was in league with the Pulsifers. We 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 277 

know now, from what this lad has told us, that 
other members of the crew were disaffected ; pos- 
sibly Strong was bribed, too.” 

“You don’t know Ned Strong, sir,” spoke up 
Here, “or ” 

“Silence, sir !” thundered the officer. 

“Huh !” grunted Here, in a low tone, however. 

“As I was saying, sir, the whole thing looks, 
as you said, suspicious. We know that the lad 
was recently placed in the forward turret of the 
Manhattan , and would have had an opportunity 
to examine the breechblock of the Varian gun. 
He might even have made rough drawings of 
it.” 

“What you say is plausible, Captain Stirling,” 
nodded the rear-admiral gravely. 

“I don’t believe a word of it!” snapped Cap- 
tain Dunham hotly. “I’ll stake a good deal on 
that youngster’s honesty, and ” 

“You’ll win!” came a crisp voice from the rear 
of the room. 

The officers turned, amazed, and set up a shout 
of astonishment as they beheld, framed in the 
door which they had entered noiselessly, the fig- 
ures of the inventor, and, standing, cap in hand, 
by his side, the Dreadnought Boy, the lad to 


278 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


whose pluck and resourcefulness the inventor 
largely owed his liberty. 

“I repeat it, gentlemen,” went on the inventor, 
for it was he who had voiced the interruption; 
'There isn’t a finer, more capable or grittier lad 
in the service to-day than Ned Strong of the 
M anhattan ” 

"But, but — gentlemen, pray sit down ” be- 

gan the rear-admiral. "Really this is most ir- 
regular.” 

He sat down resignedly as the officers pressed 
about the inventor and Ned. In a few moments 
order was restored, and the two newly escaped 
captives were telling their story. 

"But how did you get back from the Sierra 
Madre Mountains so quickly?” asked Captain 
Dunham, who was familiar with Cuba and had 
recognized the location of the Pulsifers’ hut from 
the inventor’s description. 

"Let Ned Strong tell that,” smiled the in- 
ventor. 

"Why, gentlemen, we — we borrowed Mr. Pul- 
sifer’s automobile,” explained the Dreadnought 
Boy. 

"Good for you!” burst out Here, who had been 
dancing about in the background, hardly able 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


279 


to keep down his excitement. Of course, dis- 
cipline did not permit his greeting Ned just then, 
and he had been on the point of exploding ever 
since his chum entered the room. 

In the general excitement no one reproved the 
impulsive youth, who turned as red as a winter 
sunset when he realized what a sad breach of 
naval etiquette he had committed. 

“Strong, stand forward/’ ordered Rear-Ad- 
miral Gibbons, as the inventor took up and con- 
cluded the story of how they had missed their 
road, but finally found their way into town, go- 
ing first to a house occupied by some friends of 
Mr. Varian’s before proceeding to the hotel. At 
the home of the inventor’s friends they had got 
a wash and brush-up which both stood sadly in 
need of. Ned’s leg, besides, had required dress- 
ing. It turned out to be, as he had guessed, only 
a flesh wound, but was sufficiently painful, though 
not dangerous in any way. 

In obedience to his superior’s command, the 
young seaman took two paces to the front and 
saluted, bringing his heels together with a smart 
click, despite the pain his wound gave him as 
he did so. 

“Strong,” went on the admiral, “you have done 


280 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Mr. Varian and the United States Navy a great 
service. Had it not been for your quick, intelli- 
gent work, it might have been that the Pulsifers 
and the others implicated in this dastardly affair 
would have escaped. Mr. Varian might not have 
been with us this morning. I congratulate and 
thank you on behalf of the government and on 
behalf of the naval department and officers of 
this squadron.” 

Ned’s lips moved. Somehow he couldn’t speak. 
Here’s face, bisected by a broad grin, thrust itself 
forward among the officers till it appeared, like a 
whimsical moon, between the elbows of Captain 
Dunham and the rear-admiral. 

“I shall see, Strong,” went on the admiral, 
“that some signal notice is taken of your clever, 
plucky work. You are of the stuff of which real 
seamen are made and we want to encourage men 
like you in every way possible. And now, gen- 
tlemen, as we are not within hearing of Wash- 
ington — or the papers — perhaps it might not be 
inconsistent with the occasion to give three 
cheers.” 

“Oh, those crazy Americanoes !” exclaimed the 
little yellow-faced Cubans, as three long, re- 
sounding naval cheers, with a zipping “tiger,” 


ON BATTLE PKACTICE 


281 


rang through the stagnant tropic air and went 
booming over the water as far as the grim sea 
bulldogs of Uncle Sam, lying at anchor off the 
town. 


282 


THE DEEADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A HIT WITH CHAOSIT& 

“General battle practice today,” cried a bosn’s 
mate, as he hastened forward through the scrub- 
bing stations the next morning. 

Ned and Here exchanged glances above their 
swabs. 

At last they were to see what actual battle 
conditions were like. The practice hitherto had 
been merely target practice and mine-laying— 
the latter being dummies, of course. To-day, 
they had learned earlier, the ships were to be 
“cleared for action” just as in actual service, and 
steaming at eighteen knots, were to fire at the 
targets as they steamed by as if they were repul- 
sing a hostile fleet. No wonder the jackies were 
on the tiptoe of expectation. 

As for the two chums, they were in high spir- 
its. Promotion loomed ahead of Ned, and Here 
wished him success with all the warmth of his 
generous heart. Not a thought of envy entered 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


283 


his mind. He was as delighted as Ned himself 
over the big chance that had come to the Dread- 
nought Boy. 

Each of my readers can imagine for himself 
what the two boys had had to say the evening 
before, when they had been reunited; and Ned 
had to tell his adventures over and over again, 
till Here advised him to invest in a phonograph 
and talk his narrative into it for indefinite reiter- 
ation. “Pills” had patched Ned’s injured leg 
so deftly that it hurt him hardly at all, and the 
doctor’s suggestion that he go on the “binnacle 
list,” otherwise the sick roll, had met with Ned’s 
unqualified disapproval. 

“I’m fit for duty. I want to do it, sir, if pos- 
sible,” he had said quietly but firmly, when the 
doctor suggested that he rest up for a few 
days. 

The doctor, a veteran of thirty years’ service, 
had thrown up his hands in amazement. 

“I’ve been in the navy for more years than 
you’ve seen, my boy, by a long shot,” he ex- 
claimed, “and I never heard a seaman talk like 
that before. Well, if you want to work, go 
ahead, and my blessing go with you.” 

“I hope that young man is quite right in his 


284 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


head/’ the man of medicine had muttered to him- 
self, as he heard the door of his sanctum closed 
by the first bluejacket he had ever met who was 
not anxious to avail himself of the restful idle- 
ness afforded by being on the “binnacle list/’ 

Immediately after breakfast the Manhattan 
was a scene of the liveliest activity. 

Rails came down and were stowed. Boats 
were lowered, ventilators shipped, war nets 
rigged, and every object on the deck that was not 
an absolute fixture vanished. The same thing 
occurred on other vessels of the fleet, in obedience 
to the flagship’s signalled order : 

“Clear for action.” 

It was like stripping human fighters for a ring 
contest. 

Bugles shrilly sang the order from ship to 
ship of the squadron. While the smiling jackies 
bustled about on deck, stewards and orderlies 
below were stowing pictures and bric-a-brac be- 
tween mattresses and placing all the ship’s crock- 
ery and glassware in places where it was not in 
danger of being jarred to fragments by the earth- 
quake-like detonations of the big guns. 

In the meantime officers had invested them- 
selves in their full-dress uniforms with side 


ON BATTLE PBACTICE 


285 


arms, and an hour after the order had been first 
transmitted the signal to “Up Anchor” fluttered 
out from the halliards of the flagship. 

Aboard the Manhattan especially excitement 
ran at high tension, for Mr. Varian himself had 
come aboard that morning in a shore boat, and 
it was an open secret that the big twelve-inch 
gun, fitted with his Chaosite breech — was to re- 
ceive its first sea test. 

The first sight that greeted the eyes of Here 
and Ned, reporting for duty in their turret as the 
squadron got under way beneath a pall of black 
smoke, was the unveiling, so to speak, of the in- 
ventor’s masterpiece. Mr. Varian and Lieuten- 
ant Timmons, the ship’s gunnery officer in com- 
mand of the turret, had their heads together 
over the intricate piece of machinery as the two 
Dreadnought Boys entered the steel-walled box, 
in which they were practically a part of the ma- 
chinery. 

The inventor greeted them with a kindly nod. 
Perhaps the thought shot into his mind that had 
it not been for the pluck and clear-headedness of 
one of the Dreadnought Boys, he might not have 
been there. 

“Is there any news, sir?” Ned asked respect- 


28 G 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


fully, as soon as he got a chance to speak to the 
inventor. 

“No. The launch that was sent to intercept 
the Pulsifers' vessel has not yet reported, but 
we may hear from her at any time now.” 

“Let us hope that the rascals haven't got a 
start and boarded some passenger vessel at sea,” 
put in Lieutenant Timmons. 

As the officer joined in the conversation Ned 
saluted and went to another part of the turret. 
It is not naval usage for an enlisted man to con- 
verse with an officer, and Ned was far too well- 
trained a young man-o'-warsman to break any 
rule, even the unwritten ones, which in the navy 
are almost as numerous as the codified regula- 
tions. 

The excitement under which all hands labored 
was, however, far too keen to allow even the 
thoughts of the Pulsifers' capture to interfere 
with present duty. 

Especially was this the case on two of the ves- 
sels of the squadron — the Idaho, the holder of the 
coveted meat-ball, and, as has been mentioned, 
the Manhattan, every jackie on board of which 
vessel longed with his whole soul to see the gun- 
nery flag flying from the Dreadnought's main. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


287 


The scores stood even between the big guns of 
the two battleships now, and the open secret that 
the morning practice was to be made, in large 
part, with the Varian gun and explosive made the 
Manhattan’s jackies fearful that they might lose, 
after all. 

Jim Cooper, nervous and high-strung as ever, 
crouched in his seat beside the big weapon as the 
charge was rammed home and the breech slapped 
to on the heavy load of Chaosite, which the two 
Dreadnought Boys beheld for the first time. It 
was a pinkish, crystalline-looking substance, and 
its inventor claimed, as safe to handle as ordinary 
clay, which it resembled in its plasticity. Just to 
show its properties, before the charge was placed, 
the inventor picked up a chunk of the explosive 
and compressed it in his hands. He moulded it 
into several different shapes, and concluded the 
exhibition by throwing it on the flooring of the 
turret with force enough to have detonated a 
charge of dynamite. 

“There is only one danger I apprehend from 
it,” he had explained to Lieutenant Timmons, 
“and that is in the event of a 'flareback/ But 
under such conditions there is no powder made 
that is safe.” 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


288 

In reply to the officer’s questions, the inventor 
explained that Chaosite was a slow-burning ex- 
plosive, and if the much-dreaded flareback ever 
occurred in a gun in which it was being used, 
blazing particles of the freed explosive would be 
scattered about the turret. As Chaosite would 
only explode when confined, these particles would 
glow like hot coals till they burned out. The 
deadly peril consisted in the fact that the doors 
of the ammunition hoist opened directly into 
the turret. There were safety shutters to the 
hoist, but in action the reloading followed so 
fast on the firing of the guns that there 
was little chance of the safety devices being 
used. 

The shaft of the ammunition hoist led directly 
down to the ammunition table below the water- 
line on which the explosive was piled, ready to be 
shot upward on electric elevators. Alongside the 
ammunition tables were the open doors of the 
ship’s magazine. It does not require vivid imag- 
ination to picture what would be the result of 
blazing particles of a substance like Chaosite 
dropping down the hoist onto the powder and ex- 
plosives piled below. Quick and utter annihila- 
tion would follow. Not a soul of the eight hun- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


289 


dred odd crew and forty officers would stand any 
but the smallest chance of salvation. 

The Dreadnought Boys, as well as the rest of 
the crew in the turret, were interested listeners 
to the conversation. All of them knew what a 
flareback was. One had occurred on the Georgia 
a year before, costing two lives. It is usually 
caused by fragments of burning powder being 
left in the chamber of the gun after a charge has 
been fired. An electric blower is attached to the 
big guns of Uncle Sam’s navy, which is supposed 
to thoroughly clean the chamber after each dis- 
charge; but it is not careless sailor-proof, and 
occasionally the newspapers bear dreadful tes- 
timony to the result of a flareback, which occurs 
when the new load is ignited by the left-over 
fragments of the old one. 

But the talk between Mr. Varian and the offi- 
cer was suddenly checked. 

“Boom !” 

The flagship had fired, and, as the glass 
brought to bear by Lieutenant Timmons showed, 
had missed the first target. 

At the distance of a mile and a half the tar- 
gets, with their tiny boats bobbing at a safe dis- 
tance, looked extremely small. Shooting at a 


290 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


potato on a fence post at twenty rods with a small 
rifle is easy compared to the task before Uncle 
Sam’s gunners. 

“Now, Cooper, steady, my lad!” 

Lieutenant Timmons’ voice sounded strained 
and harsh as the gun pointer squinted through 
his telescope and depressed his pointing lever ever 
so little. Already the range had been signaled 
from the fire-control wells. 

[ The Manhattan was quivering to the speed of 
her engines, rushing her stripped form past the 
targets at eighteen knots. 

Every man of that gun crew was under as 
painful a tension as the officer. As for the in- 
ventor, his face took on a deadly pallor as he 
leaned against the rear wall of the turret. In a 
few moments now he would know if his invention 
was a failure or a glorious success. 

A tiny signal light — the message from the fir- 
ing room glowed. 

Cooper looked round. His wrinkled face was 
grotesquely knotted, like an ape’s, in his excite- 
ment. His hand shook, but there was a glitter in 
his eyes that showed he meant to get that target. 

“Brace yourselves, men !” warned the officer. 

The boys stood as they had been taught, their 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


291 


knees slightly bent, so as to be springy. As they 
got the last order they stuffed cotton in their 
ears. Otherwise, the drums would have been 
shattered by the discharge. 

“All ready, sir,” breathed Cooper. 

“Fire!” 

There was a sharp click from the electric firing 
switch and a tiny spurt of bluish flame. 

A shock like that of an earthquake followed. 
The mighty explosion seemed to rend the turret. 

It had not died out before the glasses of the 
gunnery officer, the inventor and the gun-pointer 
were bearing on the distant target and the boats 
scurrying toward it. From the bridge and the 
quarter deck similar scrutiny was brought to bear. 

Chaosite was almost smokeless, so their vision 
was not obscured, as with the old-fashioned 
powder — even the so-called “smokeless” making 
quite a smother. 

“Hit, sir !” shot out Cooper dryly, as the signal 
man in the target boat wig-wagged the news. 

“Now let the Idaho folks get busy!” cried the 
delighted gun crew. 

The new explosive and the new gun had proven 
themselves one of the biggest naval successes of 
many a day. 


292 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE STUFF A JACKIES MADE OF. 

Hastily the gunnery officer scribbled a note 
and handed it to Here. 

“Here, my man, take this to Captain Dun- 
ham, he said, thrusting the paper into Here's 
hand. 

The red-headed boy was off like a flash, and 
a second later the captain, who had already wit- 
nessed the signaling of the successful hit, was 
reading the details of the wonderful results 
achieved with the new gun. 

He detained Here several minutes while he 
asked him numerous questions about the handling 
of the gun, all of which the boy answered so 
intelligently as to bring nods of approbation from 
the group of officers surrounding the commander 
of the Manhattan on the vessel's flying bridge. 

By the time Here started back for the turret, 
the Manhattan was close upon the second target. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


293 


“I’ve got to hurry,” thought the boy, quicken- 
ing his pace. 

But before he had more than reached the mid- 
ship section of the Dreadnought another mighty 
shock set her stout frame aquiver, and Here knew 
another shot had been fired. 

“Another hit !” he heard a shout go up an in- 
stant later. “We’ve got the Idaho folks lashed 
to the mast. They missed the first target.” 

But even as the cry reverberated along the 
decks there came another sound that struck terror 
to the heart of the Dreadnought Boy. 

It was a heavy, smothered explosion that 
seemed to come from within the turret itself. At 
the same instant great clouds of yellow-colored 
smoke began to roll from the top ventilators. 

“It’s a flareback !” Here heard old Tom shout. 
“Heaven help the poor souls in there !” 

A flareback! 

What the words meant Here knew only too 
well. In the poisonous fumes of the burning 
Chaosite, vomited backward from the big gun’s 
breech, there was quick, sure death. 

Suddenly the small door in the barbette of the 
turret opened, and four half-crazed, reeling men 
staggered out, bearing a limp form of a fifth. It 


294 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


was Jim Cooper, the gun-pointer, they carried. 
Blackened and almost unrecognizable as the men 
were, the look of blank horror on their faces 
burned itself into Here’s mind. 

“Where’s the lieutenant and Mr. Varian? 
Where’s Ned Strong?” the jackies shouted, as 
they crowded round the staggering men. The 
survivors could only wave their limp arms back 
toward the inferno from which they had emerged. 

“B-b-blown to b-b-blazes!” gasped one in a 
choked voice. 

All at once, and before Captain Dunham and 
the officers could reach the scene, a red-headed 
figure ripped off its blouse, and, wrapping it 
about its head, plunged on all fours into the small 
door from which the smoke-blackened five had 
emerged. 

It was Here Taylor. 

“Stop that man!” shouted Captain Dunham, 
as he arrived, just in time to see Here vanish in 
the smoke. 

An ensign plunged forward. Half a dozen 
bluejackets followed him. 

“No, stop! Come back!” shouted the captain. 
“Enough lives have been sacrificed.” 

Reluctantly the men came back. Tears rolled 



Captain Dunham himself caught Ned Strong as he fell. 


I 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


295 


down the ensign’s face as he begged to be allowed 
to enter the turret. But the commander was 
firm. No more lives would he have thrown away. 
For that Here was doomed to the same death as 
it seemed sure had overtaken the officer, Mr. 
Varian and Ned Strong, seemed a definite cer- 
tainty. 

“Signal the flagship of the accident, Mr. 
Scott,” ordered the captain, whose face was set 
and white, but whose voice was steady as if he 
were issuing a routine order. 

“Aye, aye, sir.” 

The executive officer issued the necessary 
orders. 

A second later the boom of the Idaho's gun 
sounded. 

Another miss. 

“The Manhattan wins the meat ball !” shouted 
some jackie far back in the throng of anxious- 
faced, pallid men. 

“Stow that, you lummox!” growled old Tom, 
and his admonition was echoed angrily by a 
dozen tars. It would have fared hard with that 
jackie if they could have laid hands on him. 

The minutes rolled by and still there came no 
sign from within the turret. 


296 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

An ensign, despatched below by the captain, 
had reported that not a single spark had dropped 
down the hoist. 

“Gentlemen, that means that there was a hero 
in that turret!” exclaimed the captain. “Before 
death came he closed those doors and in all prob- 
ability saved the ship.” 

The others nodded. It was not a situation in 
which words seemed appropriate. 

From the turret ventilators little smoke was 
now issuing. If any of the four men inside that 
steel-walled trap remained alive, they stood a 
fighting chance now. 

Suddenly the jackies set up a roar. 

From the turret door there staggered a black, 
weird figure; its clothes hung in shreds and 
blood streamed from a dozen cuts and bruises. 
In its arms this reeling figure carried another 
scarecrow-like form, the latter half-naked, like its 
bearer. 

The first figure turned toward the dumfounded 
group of officers with a ghastly attempt at a 
smile on its blackened face, and then pitched 
forward with its burden. 

Captain Dunham himself caught Ned Strong 
as he fell. Mr. Scott, the executive officer, as 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 297 

swift to act as his commander, had at the same 
instant seized hold of the limp form of Lieutenant 
Timmons, which the Dreadnought Boy had 
dragged from the jaws of death. 

The doctor, a strange, soft light on his face, 
was still bending over his so strangely restored 
patients, when another roar came from the 
jackies. They seized each other and capered 
about like lunatics, and not an officer checked 
them. Temporarily the Manhattan housed a mob 
of cheering, yelling maniacs. 

For through the turret door there now emerged 
a second figure, but this one bore a head of fiery 
red above his sooty countenance. 

It was Here, and with him he dragged out 
the collapsed figure of the inventor. 

The Dreadnought Boys had beaten the flare- 
back at its own grisly game. 

From the scorched lips of Lieutenant Tim- 
mons, who, besides a few burns and the effects of 
the severe shock, had, like the others, miracu- 
lously escaped injury, the captain that evening 
heard the whole story. 

The flareback had come like a bolt from the 
blue while the gun crew, still cheering Jim Coop- 
er's second hit, were reloading. 


298 THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 

The officer had felt himself blown back across 
the turret and smashed against the steel wall. 
The place was filled with acrid smoke and yelling, 
terrified men. Through the smoke glowed the 
blazing fragments of Chaosite that had been 
spurted back out of the gun. 

Dimly the officer had seen Ned Strong stagger 
through the smoke toward the doors of the hoist, 
which were open preparatory to receiving another 
load. At the same time Lieutenant Timmons was 
trying with all his might to reach the same goal. 
He fell before he attained his object, however, 
and the last thing he knew was that he saw Ned 
seize the lever that swung the safety doors to- 
gether and then collapse in a heap. 

The inventor had fared much as had the offi- 
cer, except that he succumbed to the fumes more 
quickly. He had managed, however, to open 
the ventilators to their full capacity by seizing, 
with his last conscious movement, the control that 
elevated them. This action undoubtedly con- 
tributed in large measure to saving the lives of 
those imprisoned in the death trap, for even Jim 
Cooper recovered, and a court martial later ac- 
quitted Lieutenant Timmons of all blame. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


299 


The joy that ran through the fleet when it was 
learned that not a single serious injury had re- 
sulted from the accident on the Manhattan may 
be imagined. Battle practice, which had stopped 
for that day, was ordered resumed on the mor- 
row. But before that occurred another event 
happened which marked the end of one of the 
boldest attempts on record to steal one of Uncle 
Sam’s most jealously guarded secrets. 

The squadron was at anchor that evening, and 
retreat had just blown, when the wireless oper- 
ator of the Dreadnought sought Captain Dun- 
ham with a paper in his hand. 

It was a wireless from the launch sent after 
the Pulsifers and their gang, and reported that 
the yacht had been intercepted and boarded, off 
Boco del Toros, and that all the miscreants were 
captured. 

The captain himself it was who sought out 
Ned and Here, in the sick bay, and communicated 
the news to them. Both boys had been placed on 
the “binnacle list” under their protests; but, 
gritty as they were, they had been ordered to the 
ship’s hospital peremptorily. 

The rest of the gun crew shared their retreat, 
though each and every one of the rescued men 


300 


THE DKEADNOUGHT BOYS 


declared that he was fit and able for duty. As 
a matter of fact, however, all of them had had 
a severe shock, and it was some days before they 
finally recovered and were about again receiv- 
ing the congratulations of their shipmates. 
In the meantime battle practice went on, and 
the Manhattan eventually won the “meat- 
ball.” 

The boys received the news of the capture of 
the Pulsifers with a cheer, feeble but sincere. 
The summary court martial called to decide the 
cases of Carl Schultz, Silas, and Hank Harkins 
was convened the next day, when the crest-fallen 
prisoners were brought back on board. Schultz 
and Silas broke down under questioning and con- 
fessed that they were escaped prisoners, and were 
returned to the Illinois authorities to serve out 
life sentences for the murder of an old farmer 
near Springfield many years before. 

Ralph Kennell was sentenced to serve ten years 
in a government penitentiary and to be dishon- 
orably discharged from the service. Hank Har- 
kins escaped with a dishonorable discharge, on 
the boys' intercession for him. As for the Pulsi- 
fers, they were given over to the Federal authori- 
ties, and are now serving long terms at the Fed- 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


301 


eral prison in Atlanta, Georgia. Simultaneously 
with the discovery of the plot, the Baron van- 
ished from Washington, leaving a disappointed 
and mystified fiancee. It was never learned for 
just what government the Pulsifers had been 
engaged in their work of spying and bribing. 

How Hank Harkins got mixed up with the 
plotters he explained to the court martial. He 
had fallen into Schultz’s and Silas’ company in 
New York and gambled much of his money away 
to them. Afraid to write home for more, he had 
cast about for a way to recruit his finances, and 
when Schultz and Silas suggested that he join 
them in the work they had undertaken for the 
Pulsifers, he willingly agreed. 

A few days after Ned and Here were once 
more up and about — for they had been “bin- 
nacled” while the above events transpired — they 
were summoned aft to the captain’s cabin, and 
told that on the return of the fleet to American 
waters they were to report to the Secretary of 
the Navy at Washington without delay. This 
event occurred in the early part of June. 

The two lads, brown-faced and alert, but some- 
what alarmed at the prospect of encountering 
such a mighty personage as the Secretary of the 


302 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


Navy, called at the department, according to 
instructions, and sent in their names. 

“Send them right in,” came a hearty voice, 
although there was a long row of visitors ahead 
of the Dreadnought Boys. 

“And so you are the two lads that Captain 
Dunham thinks more about than any bluejackets 
in the service,” began the secretary, a keen-faced, 
slender man, with a bristly black mustache and 
kindly, penetrating eyes. “These are the lads,” 
he went on, turning to a portly man with a gray 
mustache and a pleasant smile, who stood behind 
him. 

The stout man stepped forward, and as he 
did so the boys were struck with an air of dignity 
he bore about him, which was even more im- 
pressive than that which hedged the secretary 
about. 

“My lads,” he said, “I have heard with interest 
and deep admiration of your bravery, and, better 
than that, your cool-headedness when the acci- 
dent that imperilled every soul on the Manhattan 
occurred. Had it not been for the pluck of one 
of you, a disaster which would have been historic 
in its horror might have occurred. I refer to 
your action in closing the safety doors, Strong. 


ON BATTLE PRACTICE 


303 


“And you, Taylor” — Here turned as red as his 
own thatch — “you are also deserving of the high- 
est praise. Your action in entering what seemed 
a certain death trap was heroic in the extreme. 
The United States Government is proud of you 
both, and I am authorized to pin upon you, as 
unfading mementoes of your conduct, these.” 

From two blue plush cases the portly man with 
the kind smile drew two gold badges which he 
pinned on the breast of each Dreadnought Boy. 

They were the coveted medals of honor. 

“I know that you will wear them with the high- 
est appreciation of their significance. I con- 
gratulate you both.” 

The portly man turned to the secretary with a 
smile. 

“I think that is all, Mr. Secretary,” he said. 

“I believe so, Mr. President,” said the secre- 
tary, rising and opening the door. 

The boys’ eyes fairly popped in their heads. 
Here’s amazement actually overcame his sense of 
discipline. 

“Oh, sir, was that the President himself?” he 
quavered, as the secretary returned to his desk. 

“It was,” smiled the secretary, “and he was 
here at his own special wish. He ordered a de- 


304 


THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS 


tailed report made of your actions to him and 
investigated your case carefully. You young 
men have been rarely and highly honored. And 
now one thing remains to be done. You have 
received the highest honor the navy can confer 
for heroism displayed in line of duty. The gov- 
ernment has for actions like yours a more sub- 
stantial reward. I present you with these two 
purses, each containing a hundred dollars in 
gold.” 

The boys stammered their thanks somehow, 
while the room seemed to whirl round them. How 
they ever got out once more on to the sunlit 
Pennsylvania Avenue they often discussed after- 
ward, but never arrived at any satisfactory con- 
clusion. 

“I guess we flew,” Here always says ; “I know 
I felt as if I was walking on air.” 

The Dreadnought Boys had a two weeks’ fur- 
lough before rejoining the fleet. They spent part 
of this in New York, seeing the sights, not for- 
getting a visit to the office where they had en- 
listed, and a portion of it in the old village, where, 
as may be imagined, they were the “heroes of the 
hour.” Old Zack still exhibits a dented Canadian 
dime with which Ned presented him as a sou- 


ON BATTLE PEACTICE 


305 


venir. The village band, not to be behindhand, 
learned to play a series of strange discords de- 
clared by them to be the navy’s own, particular 
march, “Nancy Lee.” 

And so, with their hearts overflowing with 
patriotism, and a fixed determination ever to 
serve the flag and their country with an unflag- 
ging devotion, we will for the present take our 
leave of the Dreadnought Boys. 

But many adventures, stranger and more 
fraught with peril than any through which they 
had yet passed, were ahead of them. A career in 
the navy is, even in “the piping times of peace,” 
one full of excitement and action, and in their 
immediate future the boys were to realize this. 

Life on board a torpedo-boat destroyer is a 
strange one in many ways, and the boys, in their 
coming experience on such a craft were des- 
tined to have this borne in on them. Their ad- 
ventures on one of Uncle Sam’s sea-tigers in a 
strange country and among strange people will 
be related in full in the next volume of this series, 
The: Dreadnought Boys Aboard a Destroyer. 


the End. 





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Dreadnought Boys Series 

BY 

Capt. WILBUR LAWTON. 
Modern Stories of the New Navy. 
Cloth'Bound Price, 50/ per volume. 


The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice. 

How many times have you paused to gaze provided 
you live in a maritime town of course, at Uncle Sam’s 
grim, gray sea-fighters swinging at their anchors, or 
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In the first volume of the series which bears the 
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show the stuff they are made of. Real books for real boys. 

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THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ABOARD A DESTROYER. 

The adventures of two young men of wars- 
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destroyer, On board one of these sea-tigers the 
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The part the boys played in the revolu- 
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The excitement of warfare on sea and land, 
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a book for every lad who has felt the call of 
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I SOLD BY BOOKSELLERS EVERYWHERE 
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The Boy Scouts on the Range. 

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T HIS is a brisk, vigorous, snappy, 
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ming over with human nature and, 
while true to real life, is as fascinat- 
ing as the most imaginative yarn of 
adventure. 


Burst $ Co., 395 Broadway, Hew Vork 






















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